The Snake's Clan
by Kanui d'Astor
Summary: When long ago, Salazar created the Slytherin house and put himself on its throne, he never thought that, one day, the Snake could evolve and the crawling lord mute into the Sky sovereign, the one and only Dragon. DracoHarry, LuciusSeverus, RonHermione
1. Chapter 1 Coming back

Author's notes: This fic contains slash and incestuous relations. You're warned!

The four first chapters are for fun. They have nothing to see with the plot and are too sweet and childish for my tastes. Still, there are some important pieces of information in them. Chapters five and six represent the introduction. The real story begins at chapter seven. If you think 'But chapters are really short. How can she make a full story out of seven chapters?'. Well, they keep going longer and longer. Chapter ten even had to be cut in two parts.

What I wanted to say is: if you find the beginning stupid, please go on a little longer. You could be surprised. Have a good read.

THE SNAKE'S CLAN 

**Chapter 1: come back  
**  
**Tuesday, September 1st**

**  
** For the seventh and last time in his life, Harry found himself weaving through the crowds at King's Cross station towards the magical barrier between platforms 9 and 10. He was reminiscing about the past year, which had been particularly unpleasant, despite Dumbledore's best efforts to raise moral. Voldemort's latest campaign of terror had left the entire school on edge, and Harry was hoping this year, the atmosphere would be a little less tense. Dodging through the throng of muggles, Harry ran throughout the barrier between platforms. He couldn't help smiling when he saw the Hogwarts express and the familiar, dusty sign displaying "platform 9 & 3/4s".  
Abandoning his maudlin thoughts for the moment, Harry pulled himself up the stairs into the nearest compartment and levitated his trunk in after him using a spell he had learned during one of his many sleepless nights at Privet drive. It reminded him of the spell Sirius used on Snape, that fateful night Harry had found out who had really betrayed his parents.

At length, Harry found an empty compartment, and settled down. Alone, at least until Hermione and Ron arrived, he fell into thought. His fifth year had been eerily calm. Voldemort seemed to have disappeared completely. The Death Eaters, too, tried to draw as little attention to themselves as possible; attacks on Muggles, like that of the Quidditch World Cup were few and far between. Even the Dursleys had almost stopped persecuting Harry. In his sixth year, everything changed. The new Minister of Magical Games and Sports, Henry Strawe (Ludo Bagman had been sacked due to his gambling debts) had been assassinated.  
The murderers were, without a doubt, the Death-Eaters, under the orders of Lord Voldemort. The Minister's bleeding corpse had been found near the Twitching Broomstick in Appleby, the Dark Mark floating in the sky. The news of Voldemort's rebirth spread like wildfire, sparking the biggest exodus out of the country since Voldemort's first reign of terror.  
Even Cornelius Fudge had finally realised that Voldemort was behind the flurry of attacks on ministers, Muggles and aurors, and publicly begged Dumbledore to replace him as Minister nearly every day. Harry snorted at the irony of this, it had been Fudge who had insisted that Voldemort had not returned in Harry's fourth year.  
Dumbledore, however had refused to leave Hogwarts. The Headmaster knew that the school could not survive without his influence, the tension between Gryffindors and Slytherins escalated daily, often erupting into duels between Draco and himself.

Harry's reverie was suddenly disrupted; several ones were arguing in the corridor outside the compartment. Curious, Harry got up and opened the door. He found Ron, held back by desperate-looking Hermione who looked about ready to change her mind and let him loose, trying to hex Crabbe and Goyle.  
"Stop!" yelled Harry  
Startled, Hermione released Ron, who stumbled forwards, and almost plowed into Crabbe and Goyle, who, shaken by Harry's sudden appearance, had jumped about a foot in the air. Harry calmly helped his two best friends up. Crabbe and Goyle had recovered as well, and Malfoy's bodyguards were about to continue the fight where it had left off when Harry noticed that Malfoy was missing. 'Where is he?' Harry wondered. He was distracted by Crabbe drawling, "So... Gryffindor's golden boy..."  
Harry was flabbergasted, when had Crabbe drawled? Or come up with alliterated insults?

Ron started to defend Harry when another compartment door opened behind the Slytherins. Unfortunately, the newcomer was blocked by Crabbe and Goyle's not inconsiderable bulks.  
"What's all this uproar about?" inquired a dark voice.  
"Huh.We're jus' showin' these littl'…"  
Goyle was barely halfway through his explanation when the voice cut smoothly through his sentence.  
"Goyle. Shut up. Now." snapped the voice. Harry recognised it as Draco's. Before he had a chance to say anything the door between Draco's compartment and the corridor slammed shut.

Malfoy's voice was filled with irritation so intense it made the goons shiver like Neville would in a potion's lesson.  
"W…we better go." Stammered Crabbe and Goyle in unison, shuffling away quickly.

Later, Harry, Ron and Hermione were joined by Dean, Seamus and then Justin Finch-Fletchley. Ron had taken advantage of an attentive audience to narrate the tale of their little corridor brawl.  
When Justin immediately took out a piece of parchment and an acid-green Quick-Quotes Quill, the others were quite perplexed.  
"What are you doing?" inquired Harry nervously. He had always mistrusted enchanted quills since his fourth year with Rita Skeeter's horrible articles.

"Just taking notes for an article in the school paper I started," replied Justin airily.

"A paper? You want to publish a news-paper?" Ron interrupted derisively.

"Yeah, I've asked professor Sprout, my Head of house, and Dumbledore. They both agreed, thought it was a wonderful idea!" Justin added this bit to annoy Ron, who was looking quite skeptical.

"Don't you think it will be an insane amount of work, too much for you to handle?" added Hermione, "It's our Newt's this year and..."

"The others all said they'd pitch in, Dean even volunteered to be assistant editor. Anyway, I can always count on you three to help in a tight situation, tell me when something big happens!" Justin exclaimed brightly, pointedly ignoring the others' doubtful expressions.

"No problem, we'll tell you all the dirt on the Slytherins, who Malfoy is sleeping with and such," said Ron with a mischievous smile, which Harry found more than slightly suspicious.

Ron then continued his much embellished story, and by the end Justin, budding journalist that he was, was bursting with questions.

"But are you sure it was Malfoy?" insisted Justin, "he's usually the one who encourages Crabbe and Goyle to hex you!"

Harry broke into the conversation, "Yeah. I've been thinking about this incident ever since it happened, and its very weird. I suggest we keep an eye on Malfoy. Maybe he's planning something especially nasty for us - you know his ...affiliations."

------------------

The rest of the trip to Hogwarts passed by without a single disturbance. Through the window, Harry watched fields and mountains whiz by. A faint smile was imprinted on his lips as he thought of what was awaiting him this year. In his last letter, Sirius had hinted that a few changes had taken place at Hogwarts. Of course, he had refused to divulge what they were.

Finally they arrived at the castle. Harry sighed; he was at last back where his heart belonged: Hogwarts. The Great Hall was its usual grand self; fully decorated for the feast, the candles floating in mid-air above the tables. The Headmaster was gazing at Harry, smiling with the usual benevolent twinkle in his eyes, surrounded by the other professors.

Harry swiftly picked out tiny professor Flitwick, who was amiably chatting with professor Sprout, the grimy Herbology teacher. At her side was professor Snape. Never in all his years as a student had Harry hated a teacher as much as he hated Severus Snape. Even after he found out the sallow-faced, greasy-haired, hook-nosed potions master was a spy for Dumbledore, working among the Death-Eaters, Harry still hadn't been able to feel any sympathy for the man.

Harry sat at the Gryffindor table, and watched the first years being sorted into their respective houses. He cheered each new Gryffindor, and bet on the sorting hat's choices. Finally, when all students were in their seat, food appeared on each table.

As the feast was drawing to a close, professor Dumbledore got up and made the usual announcements.  
"Ah, another year at Hogwarts!" he said, smiling around at them all. " I ask for your attention for only a few short minutes. I would like to remind you that the forest is forbidden to all students, whatever year they are." He was now looking fixedly at Harry, Ron and Hermione, who had disobeyed this rule time and time again. "Mr. Filch asked me to tell you that the corridors are to be free of magic, and students caught duelling in the hallway will be severely punished." Harry knew Ron was blushing: the last year he had been given a record number of detentions, because of his unceasing fights with Malfoy.  
"As you may have noticed, the new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher hasn't arrived yet. He will be here tomorrow. One more thing, I have the pleasure to name Hermione Granger and Ernie Macmillan as the new Head Girl and Boy. Now, I wish you all a good night, first years please follow the prefects to your dormitories, they will give you the password to your common rooms. Could the members of the quidditch teams of each house please remain in the great hall, their team captains will be named."

Only a few students remained, waiting for Professor McGonagall to announce the team captains. Harry looked at the Slytherins, searching for his arch-enemy. Draco however, was no-where to be found.  
"So!" Professor McGonagall began, "down to business. The captains are Hannah Abbot for Hufflepuff, Terry Boot for Ravenclaw, Harry Potter for Gryffindor, and Blaise Zabini for Slytherin."

The Slytherins frowned, utterly perplexed.  
"Me? But it should be Malfoy!" Blaise exclaimed, outraged.  
"Malfoy. where is he?" remarked Goyle.  
The whispering among the students was growing louder, the rumours wilder.

"Your attention please!", Professor McGonagall shouted over the noise, "Mr. Malfoy requested to leave his house quidditch team this year."

"Wha…What? But why?" Harry demanded loudly.  
McGonagall turned to Harry. "I have no say in this Mr. Potter. Maybe, if you ask him, he'll explain. Now, its getting late, please go back to your dormitories if you have no more questions. Tomorrow morning, your quidditch practice times will be handed out along with your academic timetables. Good night." She left, her robes billowing behind her.

When Harry had got back to his dorm, his roommates were bursting with questions. Ron, Dean, Seamus and Neville forced Harry to repeat the entire meeting in full detail. They were quite pleased with the outcome. The previous year, only the Slytherin team had stood in the way of a Gryffindor victory. Over the past several years, Malfoy had matured, and his rivalry with Harry had forced him to become more serious about quidditch. He had honed his skills, and his strategies became more cunning and inventive every year.

Harry couldn't help wondering about Malfoy. For the past two years, he had played only to defeat him and was no longer able to imagine a match without Draco to beat or impress. All of a sudden, quidditch had lost its appeal.


	2. Chapter 2 Obsession

"bla-bla" talking

'bla-bla' thinking

**Chapter 2: Obsession**  
  
**Wednesday, September 2nd**

The next morning, Harry and Ron found themselves running in the long corridor, heading for the great hall, hoping to catch the tail end of breakfast. They had forgotten to perform a waking spell the night before, and so had remained asleep; whereas their roommates had got up thinking they were already gone.

They entered the hall to find the Gryffindor table in uproar. Even Ginny, usually calmer than most, was screaming at the top of her voice and staring, disgusted, at the Slytherins - as was every other student in the vicinity. At the other end of the hall, Harry saw the Slytherins, whom, for their part, were seething with rage and glaring vituperatively at the Gryffindors as if they were to blame for the current disturbance.

The loud gathering was far too fast turning into a resentful and hostile skirmish between the two houses; but then the headmaster appeared, and there was a sudden hush.

By then, the two latecomers had reached their table. Still out of breath, Harry asked Hermione what was the matter. By way of an answer, she held out a piece of paper, their new timetables. Harry stared at it, flabbergasted: they had no less than three hours of class a day with the Slytherins.

Harry was so shocked that he didn't hear the Headmaster speaking. By the time he jerked out of his reverie Dumbledore was already finishing his sentence, "... and no modification will be made to your schedules. Moreover, I've the pleasure to introduce to you your new teachers: you already know professor Remus Lupin, who will teach you Defense Against the Dark Arts."

Thunderous applause rang through the Great Hall except, predictably, from the Slytherin table. Harry and the other Gryffindors, quite forgetting their timetables, were whooping and cheering with great vigour, and stopped only when Dumbledore set off several fire-crackers with his wand.

"To teach spell and magic control," Dumbledore carried on, "Professor Docius Lanx."

The students politely clapped and Hermione immediately began telling the others how she had read one of his theses during the summer. Dumbledore went on, "As teacher of Curses and Maledictions: Professor Atus Cast."

Some Slytherins clapped, but noticing Malfoy didn't move, stopped. The blond boy studied the teacher for a moment, his face remaining expressionless; then calmly turned his gaze towards the Gryffindor table and watched Harry. If he was surprised to find Harry eyeing him back, he didn't show it. They observed one another in silence for several seemingly eternal seconds; and then Draco suddenly applauded.

- - - - - - - -

Harry heard professor Dumbledore introduce the teacher of curses and maledictions, an option he would already have chosen in his sixth year if there had been an available teacher to take the post, but since the return of Voldemort, most suitable candidates had joined the Dark Lord's ranks, or were dead. The teacher seemed neither friendly, nor detestable, simply a teacher; but Harry , like many others was in two minds about weather to cheer for him or not.

However, a few Slytherins were welcoming the teacher, but, soon realising that one of their number didn't join in their applause, stopped abruptly. Harry puzzled, looked across to the Slytherin table: in the midst of them was Draco Malfoy. He was sitting, unconcerned, with his arms folded. Harry was conscious of Draco's intent gaze fixed on the new teacher's, as if trying to read his mind, his soul. As though aware of his rival's scrutiny, the Slytherin slowly turned his head toward him. Harry could feel his hair standing on end. Draco's unflinching stare made him shiver with ... fear?

'No way! I can't be frightened by this... this fucking bouncing ferret,' he raged.

The thought made him smile, then flush and finally blanch. 'No, no! where did that come from? He's not seductive, he's just a moron. just a…' Harry sighed, his eyes travelling over Draco's face, 'Malfoy. He's a prat. A Slytherin. The Sexiest person I ever laid eyes on.'

The electric shiver down his spine didn't go away, it became a tantalising tingle which spread down to the tips of his fingers, making them ache to reach out and touch Draco's fine silvery blonde hair, to map out with his fingers Draco's sharp chiseled features and his narrow, aristocratic lips. Harry quickly closed his eyes, and took the time to put his thoughts back into order. When he had rid his mind of the image of Draco in silk boxers, he re-opened them. But Draco was still looking at him, yet with a slight smile which lit his eyes with amusement and a trace of something else. Harry unconsciously grinned at the dragon. Still pinning Harry down with his gaze, Draco smirked then clapped. Dazed by the tingling in his spine and the warm feeling in the pit of his stomach, Harry too began to applaud.

- - - - - - - - - -  
Dumbledore had patiently waited for them to make up their mind. He then continued, yet this time with a slightly more exultant tone.

"And finally, as Mrs. Hooch left us last year, flying will be taught by a recently graduated young man you all know: Professor Victor Krum."

There were shouts of joy from the boys, and a few faints among the girls. With much amusement, Harry watched Ron go from pink to red, then from red to white, with a short stop at purple.

The headmaster calmly finished his speech: "Please, make your way to your first lessons and present my apologies to your teachers for keeping you - quick, you're late!"

Laughing and chattering the students emptied the hall.

Harry's year were especially speedy- they had double potions next and didn't want to give Snape an excuse to take more points off them. When Harry and Ron finally arrived, panting, at the dungeons Hermione was already there waiting for them. As Head Girl, she had access to many of the school's secret passages. Obtusely, she refused to share their passwords and locations with her two best friends, because walking all the way would 'teach them punctuality.'

Draco, Harry noticed, was already there too, nose buried in a book.

"Did you see?" Ron asked, sliding into his seat and looking warily about for Snape.

Harry sat down beside him and replied, "see what?"

"Malfoy. He acted like the little chief of the Shit-there-in house," Ron said excitedly.

"That's not news," Hermione answered slightly impatiently.

"Maybe, but last year at least a few of them contradicted him, now they all bow to his merest whim! They act like they're scared shitless of him - he's a Death Eater for sure."

Harry sighed, remembering the way he'd looked at him. "Possibly...."

Snape finally appeared, black cape swooshing out behind him. He liked his first appearance of the year to be somewhat intimidating. The Gryffindors found it more bat-like than impressive though.

"This year, you'll be working in groups of two, one Slytherin, one Gryffindor. Well, what are you waiting for?"

With groans from both sides, the students stood up, each eyeing the other house with disgust, but this was apparently not fast enough for Snape. He began to choose the pairings himself, "Finnigan, there! Longbottom, at the far end of the class with. Goyle! Granger with Parkinson, over there! Weasley with Zabini, right there! Potter!", he smiled unpleasantly, "over here!"

He gestured toward the table in the corner, situated in front of his desk, and where another student was already sitting. Harry reluctantly picked up his bag and changed seats, cursing Snape under his breath.

"Malfoy," he said, by way of greeting, planking his bag down on the desk and rummaging through it for his potions book.

The blond put his book down on the potion table and stared at him. "What are you doing here, Potter?" he asked calmly.

"Snape"

"Hmm. So, we're to be…colleagues". Without a trace of emotion he picked up his book, and continued, "we're going to do a forium potion."

"A what?" Harry answered, puzzled by Draco's mild stance - he had been expecting insults, jibes and the kind of humiliating put downs the blonde was famous for.

"A Forium potion; it can create doors where applied on walls. Read this, it's all explained."

"Why?" Harry demanded, still in shock.

"Why what, Potter?". This time his voice had a more dangerous, impatient edge.

"Why are you doing this? You could leave me in my ignorance and see Snape take points from Gryffindor." Harry was becoming impatient with Draco's evasiveness. He wanted to know what his enemy was up to.

"I've no time for arguing this year."

This answer only made Harry even more suspicious. He hid his dissatisfaction though, uncomfortably aware of sounding like Hermione at her most annoying.

"Oh. The NEWTS." Harry replied, with a forced understanding.

"Yeah, partly.," Draco said somewhat hesitantly, a sad tone in his voice.

Harry studied him for a while, then turned his attention towards the chapter in his book the Slytherin boy had indicated.

--------------

Though horrendously long, the three hours went well, despite Snape's constant sniping at Harry. At the end of class, he spent break with Ron and Hermione. After that, Hermione had to run to her spell creation class, whereas Harry and Ron had double PS (personal studies). They decided to kick back and play a bit of Quidditch.

"So, how was it?" asked Ron when they finally flopped back onto the pitch, exhausted.

"What?" Harry replied, unsure of what his friend meant.

"Potions with the ferret boy," Ron joked, remembering with pleasure that particular incident.

"Ah. I survived, but I don't think our pairing will last long in future," Harry said.

"Why?" Ron inquired.

"Snape. He came near us several times, it seemed he wanted to talk to Malfoy, but then he remembered I was there and went away," Harry explained, perplexed by his teacher's behaviour.

"Maybe he's got something for him," Ron suggested, with evident delight. They burst into peals of laughter at the preposterous idea.

Calming down, Harry looked at his watch and groaned, "Dammit! We're late!"

"What? Leg it! Hermione's going to kill me!" Ron groaned, dreading her reaction.

"What do you have?" Harry asked, picking up his bag.

"Arithmancy. Hermione convinced me to try it this year," Ron answered, obviously still skeptical about this choice.

"Curses and maledictions," Harry said.

"Then good luck, mate!" Ron added enthusiastically.

- - - - - - - - - -

"… traditional civilisations. His survival points to the strength of his digging in the ancient magical thought. Many rituals are classified as captivation: by the look or by the blood, by carved symbols, conjuration or spirits' invocation. Yes?"

The teacher impatiently interrupted his speech, and was looking at the latecomer.

Harry quickly entered the classroom, and muttered an apologetic: "I'm sorry, professor."

"And you're?" he inquired.

"Harry Potter, sir," he answered, somewhat impressed that there existed a person in the wizarding world that didn't know him.

"Five points from Gryffindor for being late. Here's a place. Sit down there and pay attention." The teacher continued his lecture without even lifting an eyebrow at the famous name. "Bewitchments, evil spells and even the Imperius belong to one of the royal roads of the primary paganism: the medicine by transfer or transfer magic."

Harry sighed and slid into the empty seat on the first row.

"You again Potter? If you go on this way, people might think you want to sit next to me," commented his new neighbour without even looking up, or pausing in his note-taking.

"Sod off, Malfoy," Harry replied, sounding irritated but inwardly relieved that his archenemy had reverted back to his normal, insufferable attitude.

Draco just smiled, clearly amused.

- - - - - - -

"What're you doin' mate?" Ron came over to Harry and sat next to him,

"Reading."

"You're starting to sound like Hermione!", he put his hand on his friend's forehead, "but your temperature seems normal, though."

"Ron." Harry rolled his eyes.

"I was just a bit worried that's all. Since the beginning of school you've been, well...distant. Did you pick a fight with Malfoy or something like that? 'Cause we can go and beat him up, if you want." Ron smiled encouragingly, "or we could go do that anyway if you like..."

"No, it's...," Harry sighed heavily and put his head in his hands, "I have this odd sensation, as if my mind is drifting off, and I can't concentrate on anything but him and I try to detach my thoughts from him but I can't and I want to react but I can't and I."

Ron stopped him mid-sentence. Since Cedric's death and the events of their fifth year, Harry had fallen into an emotional crisis. He talked and talked, and if nobody stopped him swiftly, his ramblings degenerated into hysterical shouting. His mental state had improved over the past two years, but Harry still got all mixed up at times. So Ron clasped Harry tightly to him in a hug, encircling him with his long arms, comforting him with soothing words, softly spoken.

"Are you better?" he finally asked.

"Yes. I think, thanks Ron. I just needed to say something, it's a strange feeling and I can't help reacting in this way. You can let me go now, I promise I won't be all hysterical again. Ron?"

The boy was looking at him, concern in his eyes.

"What?"

"Harry, you're my best friend. So, if you want to talk to me about who's bothering you, I'm here, OK?"

Harry nodded. "The moment I understand what is going on, I'll tell you."

Ron hugged him reassuringly, and added "I don't know what I'd do if I lost you. if we lost you, Hermione cares about you so much."

"Ron?"

"Yes?"

"There are no better friends than you two, really. But for now, I just need some time and space to think by myself. Are you up for wizard chess?" Harry said to change the subject.

"Anytime, mate, anytime."

- - - - - - - - - -  
Harry heard the grandfather clock in the common room strike two o'clock in the morning and turned over once more in his bed.

Harry felt as if he could see himself lying there in his bed, watching the curious sensations that crept insidiously into his blood and throbbed through his heart. They picked his mind apart with secret, silver eyes burning him from the inside out as if sluggish lava flowed through his veins. The smell of the ambrosial cologne surrounded them, his arm reached out to touch Harry's fevered cheeks, his lips and-

Harry sighed profoundly, 'Merlin balls! what has happen to me? This morning, I couldn't help but keep my eyes upon his, totally smitten by his gaze. hypnotised. spellbound!'

This last word woke Harry from his reverie. Silently as a cat he swung his legs over the side of the bed and padded over to his trunk. Rummaging through his belongings, he finally felt his books buried under Quidditch robes and old socks. 'Charms. transfiguration. ah! 'Dark magic: first year theory', that's it!'

Harry tiptoed out of his dormitory and crept down the staircase to the empty common room. Whispering, 'Lumos', Harry perched on an armchair near the dying fire, and opened his textbook.

'Fascination is usually considered as the primary form of bewitching, and is the ancestor of the Imperius curse. Empirical evidence suggests that both spells affect the human organism in a similar fashion and with equivalent intensity. _Malfoy in his room._ In Antiquity, the power to fascinate was attributed to gorgons and snakes. Unlike the Imperius curse, it does not require the use of a wand. Fascination is a charm operated by the eye - the fascinating Eye hypnotizes its victim - it is sometimes referred to the eye's charm. The result of the spell is that the charmed one does not see reality as it is anymore. _Malfoy laying on his bed._ He is thrown into a world of happiness and pleasure; his only desire is to stay in it, however high the price should be. When the enchantment reaches the zenith of its capacity, the performer of the spell's orders are finally perceived as the only possible realisation of the victim's unfulfilled desires, giving the cursed one the impression the orders are his own. So Malfoy bewitched me. The git! But why did he choose to... to bind me to him when he could have. I don't know… tortured me, or have me commit suicide. _Malfoy's bare chest._ Aah! Why do I care?!? He must have used a very dark spell on me and he's going to pay! _Malfoy in boxers._ But for now I need to get rid of this fucking spell! … _rather in briefs_.'


	3. Chapter 3 Duel

**Chapter 3: Duel  
**  
**Thursday, September 3rd  
**  
Harry sank onto a workbench, exhausted. He had spend a large part of the night searching for a way to escape Malfoy's spell and finally found only one solution: fire. The main problem with this is that he would need a lock of his charmer's hair, and he had a feeling that obtaining some of Malfoy's hair was going to be a little more challenging than getting some of Crabbe or Goyle's as he had in his second year . Harry had considered asking Hermione and Ron about it, but seeing them happily kissing over breakfast - they had been a couple for almost two years now- had definitely convinced him it was a bad idea, surely they deserved to be happy for a change instead of worrying about him?

All in all he'd had a very trying morning - he'd had to deal with Professor Sprout's most vicious man-eating plants, thanks to Snape, who had 'conveniently' requested some of their venom the very day Gryffindor and Hufflepuff had Herbology.

And there he was, collapsed on his table, wondering where his favorite professor could possibly be... and hoping his two best friends would stop kissing long enough to remember their DADA lesson.

Waiting for them, he turned his head towards the other side of the classroom, where a silver-blonde was disappearing behind a book. Harry wondered when Malfoy had started taking so much pleasure and attention in reading. It just wasn't like him. 'Maybe it is like him... it's not as if I really knew him. Maybe he likes books. I wonder what kind of…'

He felt a hand on his shoulder, disturbing his thoughts, "Harry, are you okay? You seem... on the moon."

"Hermione. I'm fine, I swear," he answered.

Fortunately, Professor Lupin's entrance interrupted their conversation, something Harry was very grateful for. His too short sleeves and smile gave him the air of a very kind person, which he was, yet slightly dozy, which he certainly wasn't. "Good afternoon everyone. I hope you all had wonderful holidays, and are ready for your last year as Hogwarts students!"

There were smiles and a few nods to answer his enthusiasm. "To begin with, you'll duel one against one. It'll allow me to see some of what you learned during the previous years, and particularly to decide on the coursework groups to be formed next week. But I'm warning you I insist on calm and fair play or it's back to the books! Understood?"

The class erupted into cheers. "Good. I leave you the choice of your partner. Each group will duel for two minutes."

All the students quickly moved towards a partner. Harry was going to ask Ron but noticed he was still holding Hermione's hand. He scanned the classroom, only to see pairs of students, when his eyes fell upon a lonely figure who was already watching him. They both stood up.

"Alone, Potter?"

"Yes."

"Settled?" inquired Lupin

Harry nodded. They made their way to the cleared space next to Lupin's desk, and stood facing each other. "Scared, Potter?" Draco drawled.

"You wish!"

Malfoy smirked "Back into second year."

"More than you think."

Draco raised his eyebrows but didn't ask what Harry meant. "Begin whenever you're ready," called Professor Lupin. The boys bowed then circled, watching one another unblinkingly. 'He's waiting for me to make the first move. He must think I'm gonna cast a common spell, but I'll be the one to surprise you this time, Malfoy!' "Serpensortia!"

A gray snake shot out of his wand, facing Draco.

"Yes Harry! Make him eat the git!" shouted Ron, but Harry didn't hear. He was searching for a trace of fear, or embarrassment on his opponent's face, a sign that would prove that he was the one in charge. When Draco finally lowered his wand, Harry grinned and hissed «Attack!»

The Gryffindors' shouts were growing in volume, encouraging their hero.

The snake slithered toward Malfoy, and entwined his left leg. Draco didn't move a muscle, never taking his eyes off Harry. The snake, on the other hand, slid across his chest, and swung his head around, to rest on Malfoy's shoulder. 'Why doesn't he attack him? Oh. Oh Merlin, he's so sexy like this, with the snake coiled around him. I wonder how it would look on his bare skin.' Harry unconsciously licked his upper lip. Malfoy smirked mischievously, "Potter, Potter. You really thought a snake would attack me?"

"You speak Parseltongue?" Harry asked, bewildered.

"No, but snakes know better than to attack me. See, even a snake can recognize the smart and handsome one."  
Harry intended to grind his teeth, but couldn't help smiling. He raised his wand again when Professor Lupin stepped between them.

"I think that will be enough. Another pair!"

They both went back to their seats, disappointed at the interruption of what was promising to be a very interesting duel. Meanwhile, Professor Lupin waved his wand, and the snake disappeared with a puff of black smoke.

The rest of the class was uneventful. The students cast spells at one another during the remaining time, and Neville dutifully sent his opponent to the infirmary, having once again performed the wrong spell. The classroom quickly emptied when the bell rang. Harry had stayed behind because he knew Lupin would have some news about Sirius. He was about to go ask him when Malfoy moved toward the teacher's desk.

"Excuse-me professor."

Remus Lupin lifted his eyes from the schedule he was studying.

"Can I help you, Draco?"

"Yes. I think. I'd like to do some extra work in this class, just to add to your lessons. But Madam Pince informed me that all the relevant books were in the Restricted Section. I need your signature on a permission slip."

Lupin was about to answer that he was delighted Draco was so interested, and would gladly sign it, when Ron cut him short, "Daddy's Dark Art books not satisfying you Malfoy?"

Draco turned on him, furious. "Don't you dare insult my father!"

The hatred in his voice was mirrored on Ron's face. The enmity between Draco and Harry was infamous, but it was nothing compared to the loathing Malfoys and Weasleys felt for each other. Arthur Weasley had, in the past two years, accumulated evidence against the Malfoy family, and had even obtained permission from the ministry for Aurors to search Malfoy Manor. Lucius Malfoy, on the other hand, was always attempting to deprive Arthur of his position at the ministry.

At Hogwarts, the effects of the war between the two fathers had been felt among the students, highlighted by Draco and Ron's constant duels. They didn't care about wands and had often battled with their bare hands, during classes or meals, in the corridors or on the Quidditch pitch. More often than not, Ron had had the advantage, thanks to height, but Malfoy did a good job of defending himself . But one day, after the Winter Holidays, a bloody combat put a close to definitive stop to their duels. They had then kept on their little fights, but their hatred was so profound none of them could express what they really felt, nor satisfy their desire of revenge. These altercations had become mere children arguments and the hate slowly frozen in their heart.

Lupin coughed to attract their attention. « I don't like to take points from good students like the two of you, so please remain calm. Draco, here is a pass for the Restricted Section. I trust you won't consult books than aren't on the list you gave me. »

"Of course, profess…"

He stopped abruptly, feeling a cold metallic object against his neck. He frowned when hearing a cutting noise, then saw Lupin gasp. Draco turned slowly and faced Harry, who was holding a pair of scissors. "What did you just do, Potter?" He asked, shocked.

"Me?… um. I collect locks of hair!", Harry answered, trying desperately to sound convincing.

Draco rolled his eyes, "Yes, of course, everyone collects hair. I at least hope you have the decency not to mix all the hair together, I wouldn't like to have part of me too near someone else's," scowling at Ron. But before the redhead could react, Draco had walked out the door.

- - - - - -

Harry had quite a bit of trouble explaining the hair incident to Ron without telling him about Malfoy's spell, and its effect on Harry. Fortunately, Seamus arrived, and Ron was forced to drop the subject. After spending all of his spare time working on them, Seamus had finally perfected what he called his 'tracers'. The idea had come to him as he was watching a science fiction show on the telly over the holidays. The characters used a little round ball as a spying device. It picked up on sounds, and recorded them. Seamus' tracers operated in much the same way. He had sowed them all over the castle, unnoticed because of their inconspicuous appearance, and were activated during the night. Prompted by a noise, no matter how soft, the tracer followed the person who had made this sound, noting who he was, where he went and when the person had been seen. Seamus was very proud of his invention, and would routinely make up comic explanations for his unsuspecting victims' night-time wanderings.

- - - - - -

In spite of these spies, Harry flirted with the night, defying the stars to reveal his presence. Safely hidden by his invisibility cloak, he slipped out of his dormitory and disappeared into the night. He was heading for the dungeons, or, to be more precise, the small stockroom adjacent to the potions classroom. Hearing footsteps behind him he quickly pressed himself to the wall. When he saw who it was, he had to stop himself from calling out.

'Bill? But Ron says he almost never leaves Gringotts for security reasons! And he was still so depressed during the Summer Holidays because of Charlie's disappearance last year. What could he be doing at Hogwarts?' Curiosity piqued, Harry decided he would follow his friend's brother, and was led to the Slytherin wing -if it can be called that- of the dungeons. His anxiety was growing with every step. "My my... what a handsome man we've got here!"

Harry edged closer to see who Bill was talking to. A stab of jealousy mingled with surprise flashed through him. Draco. "Yes, I know. Who can resist after all? But we have business to take care of, remember?"

"Of course. Here is the map, with access codes and doors. The rest is up to you, but I..."

The creaking of an opening door cut his sentence short, and Atus Cast entered the room, apparently not at all surprised by Bill's presence, nor of his student's. To Harry's amazement, Atus gave Bill an all-encompassing hug, grinning from ear to ear.

"Do you have the map?" he asked.

"I already gave it to Draco. When will you put your plan into action?"

"Draco?"

"A month from now." sighed the blond, "You should go, McGonagall is probably making her nightly rounds."

"Okay. See you soon. Atus."

Dumbfounded, Harry watched them go as they had come, wondering what was this map, what Bill Weasley of all people could plot with a Malfoy, and what he, Harry Potter, had to do with any plan of Malfoy's.

- - - - - - -

Still bewildered, Harry trudged back up to the common room. He had filched his bundle of magical herbs, added Malfoy's hair and thrown the bundle into the fire. According to the Gryffindor's studies, Draco, if he had bewitched him, would be scorched by the fire until he ended his enchantment over Harry.

But the following day Draco didn't have even a scratch.


	4. Chapter 4 Reflexion

**Chapter 4: Reflection  
**  
_ Here's a sigh to those who love me,  
And a smile to those who hate;  
And whatever sky's above me,  
Here's a heart for every fate.  
(Byron)  
_  
Two weeks had passed, and Harry's suspicions about Draco had mingled with something else.  
Faced with the reality of his failed attempt at proving Draco's bewitching him, Harry had spend days observing his arch-enemy. He had discovered a Draco that differed from the one he knew all too well: a strangely humane, affectionate and warm-hearted Draco. When the dark-haired student had failed to cut some roots of belladonna in compliance with Snape's strict standards, Draco had gently taken Harry's hand in his, and had slowly showed him the correct way.

A short time ago, Harry could have shouted out his hatred of potions class and its master for all to hear. Now, however, he was the only student to look forward to this lesson, with the exception of Hermione of course.

These short hours, in addition with the Curses and Maledictions class allowed him to be near Draco, to study the blond, and the strange reactions the closeness of their bodies had on Harry. Harry's heart glowed and he felt... simply happy. They had become closer the Gryffindor would never have imagined, and even in public they managed to string two polite words together. Harry, at Draco's suggestion, had joined a group of Slytherins that Draco was tutoring and had made rapid progress.

Harry had surprised himself by discovering a seething jealousy of Blaise Zabini. The young man never left Draco's side. Together, they spoke Latin, discussing things Harry couldn't understand. He also didn't comprehend why Zabini was so overprotective of Draco. Malfoy had nothing to be kept safe from.

This is how he discovered he felt alone when the blond was absent. He missed the piercing and intent yet strangely kind and gentle gaze of the Slytherin over him; the way Draco seemed to know all that happened around them; and, above everything else, the presence of his warm being and strong aura near him.

Harry's attraction to Malfoy grew stronger and stronger, often Harry dreamt of white, wandering hands exploring his body. Still suspicious, he'd spent nights searching for contra-spells in the Restricted Section, but found none. The only thing he'd found that had the power of creating such symptoms was a Love Potion and the test he'd practice over himself had revealed a negative result. This was real attraction, not an induced one, but a passionate and earnest feeling that grew in his heart.

It somehow happened that Harry missed the good, or rather bad old Draco, the cruel and manipulative one; because 'that one' would notice the way Harry looked at him, and wouldn't hesitate to take him, without loving him, only for the pleasure of seeing Harry kneel and beg at his feet. Harry knew he wouldn't mind doing so, however shameful it was, for he simply would give anything and everything to obtain an ounce more attention from the beautiful blond.

Ron and Hermione had announced their engagement. They had decided to marry soon after finishing their seventh year. Harry studied his roommates: Ron and Hermione were kissing in a corner, Dean had disappeared with Lavender, Neville and Ginny were cheerfully conversing on the couch, and Seamus was taking photos for the Hogwarts Herald. Amidst all this happy activity Harry felt strangely alone. He picked up his clock and silently left the Gryffindor tower.

The coolness of the night was barely helping him clear his head. It seemed as though a small box was tightening around his heart, pressing it deeper and deeper into his chest. Harry leaned against a wall, breathing with difficulty, choking on the sobs stuck in his throat.

"Harry?"

The Gryffindor frowned. This voice, it couldn't be. He turned to face the one that just spoke and felt his heart pounding. The fact that the blond Slytherin was accompanied by his constant companion didn't bother him and he could only see blue-grey eyes looking at him with concern. A year ago, worry would have seemed out of place in Malfoy's eyes, but Harry was now getting used to this strangely kind gleam. Draco murmured to Zabini to go ahead, which the Slytherin did very reluctantly, and then came nearer the Gryffindor.

"Would you like to go for a walk?"

He was offering his arm. Thanking him silently for his support, Harry nodded his assent and grasped it frailly. They were sitting peacefully in the rose garden, watching the moon and stars. Neither of them had said a word while they walked, and, when they stopped, Draco had taken Harry in his arms, enfolding him in a motherly embrace. Resting, Draco against the wall and Harry against Draco, the dark-haired boy felt more full of existence than he ever had. His whole world was contained in the gentleness of Draco's arms, the softness of his chest, the tenderness in his eyes. This life was Harry's dream, a secret dream he was afraid to reveal to the cruel world. Yet Harry thought he was wrong to feel this way, because he plagued by misfortune. His entire life, he had put the people he loved in danger, simply by being near them. Ginny's bewitching by Tom Riddle, the twelve years his godfather spent languishing in Azkaban, Cedric's death, and all the ones that had followed. So many things that wouldn't have been if he hadn't been alive, so many things that he could have spared them from.

"Draco?" he whispered.

"Yes, Harry?"

"Why are you being so nice to me?"

"Am I nice?"

"Yes.Very."

"Then let's say that... these last years, I discovered things about our world that changed my vision of my fellow students... and myself "

"What do you mean?"

Draco sighed, and then smiled tenderly at Harry; "Life is hard and pitiless for all of us. If we work separately, we'll die separately; it's as simple as that."

"But... I thought Slytherins."

"You thought Slytherins were protected from the reality of this world now that the Dark Lord has risen again, don't you?"

Harry looked guilty at the ground. It never occurred to him that the Slytherins of all could be sad or afraid of their future.

"Yes. Apparently I was deadly wrong. I'm sorry."

"Don't be. You've no reason."

"I do. I should have paid more attention to them instead of letting the Gryffindors hurt them; they seemed all so alone at Hogwarts last year. And... I'm sorry I didn't protect you too."

"Shhh. That's okay. I deserved it."

"No. I... I don't know what really happened to Charlie, and I don't ask you to acknowledge me, but Dumbledore trusted you so I... I trust you too. Last year I couldn't have said, but now, I'm sure you didn't help to get him killed."

"Are you sure? Are you sure I wouldn't have killed him if my life depended of it?"

"Would you?"

Harry watched him in the eyes, slightly afraid of the answer he was going to hear.

"Yes."

Harry's breath stopped in his throw as the blond continued.

"But my life wasn't in danger, neither this of someone I want to protect. Harry, I..."  
Draco took carefully Harry's head in his hands, so that their noses were touching and their eyes lost into one another.  
"Remind this, Harry, it's important. What you see or hear isn't always the reality, what you think or deduct may be false, only the time will prove itself to you."

"I don't understand."

"I know and it's normal. But one day you'll do, because time is all we have. And, by the way, you already protect the Gryffindors and it's a lot, so don't bother about Slytherins, I can handle them alone."

"But..."

"Shhh... No buts, Harry. Look at you, you look like a little boy, brave, I agree, but alone, afraid and very tired. I'm going to take you back to the Gryffindor's tower where you'll sleep a dreamless and restful night. I promise nothing will happen when you're profoundly asleep, and Merlin knows you need it."

As he had said, Draco accompanied him back to the tower. The Gryffindors hadn't noticed Harry's disappearance, and didn't heed his return. He went up to his room, and, for the first time in months, slept peacefully.

When he awoke, Harry's interest in Draco had turned from suspicion to lust to love.


	5. Chapter 5 Spying

**Chapter 5: Spying**

**Monday, October, 5th**

**  
**"Harry! Finally I find you. Come, quick!"

The brown-haired student turned back on his chair, only to see Seamus running towards him.

Ten minutes ago, Hermione, Ron and himself had reluctantly emerged from the mediwizardry class. With a war looming round the corner, the Headmaster had judged of great use the creation of a medicine class. As expected, it had been an utter success.

At the ring of the bell, the questions were still fusing and Mrs. Pomfrey was far too happy seeing her students taking so much pleasure in finally learning some useful spells to stop them.

As Hermione had Muggles Studies afterwards and Harry and Ron had to endure Mrs. Trelawney's babbles, they had been forced to make their way out. Ron had insisted on escorting Hermione to her classroom, Harry went directly to the dungeons. And there, as he waited for his friend, Seamus had suddenly appeared and dragged him along the corridor without a word of explanation.

Compelled to miss his Divination class, which he did with quite a bit of pleasure, Harry quickly recognized the way towards the infirmary. Suddenly he felt sick to his stomach. The infirmary's door creaked open and Hermione rushed out, red-eyed, tears rolling down her cheeks.

"Mione?! What happened?"

"Harry !" she hugged him tightly, hiding her face in his neck, "Ron. He just had left me in the classroom when I heard him scream. By the time I re-opened the door, I found him lying unconscious on the floor. I don't understand what happened. Oh my god, Ron."

"Did you informed Dumbledore?"

"Yes, he went away the moment you arrived."

"Is his case severe?"

"Madame Pomfrey said he's in a coma, and she doesn't- she can't wake him up, oh Harry."

"Did you see anything in the corridor when you found him; something that will help us?"

"No the corridor was empty bef. Malfoy! I remember! I saw him turn the corner some meters ahead of us."

"Malfoy. I go to the Slyth's tower."

"Harry, no! You'll only get problems. I know you're in. in rather good terms with Malfoy, but Madame Pomfrey thought it might be very powerful dark magic. What if he decides to hex you?"

Harry stoked her hair reassuringly, "You're right, but we need information to cure Ron. Maybe Dr. Malfoy saw someone, and, after all, it isn't the first time I have to infiltrate the Slytherin's wing."

She sighed, "Just be careful"

He grinned, "You know me" and went away.

On his way to the north wing, covered by his Cloak, with the Marauders Map clutched tightly in his hand he thought back to his sixth year. At that time, the death-eaters attacks were growing more and more numerous and murdering.

_Flash-back_

When the new of Lord Voldemort's departure to Rumania reached them, it was a so big release. but then, Charlie, who worked there, suddenly stopped writing. Two months later, out of desperation, Arthur Weasley convinced the Ministry to send Aurors. They failed to find Charlie again, and another name was added to the long list of the Death-Eaters' victims.

_  
But then, at the return of tearful Yule holidays, Ron noticed a pendent he remembered as belonging to Charlie, around Malfoy's neck. All his sorrow abruptly and violently burst out in as much anger. Ron, possessed by a livid madness, threw himself at Malfoy and they both rolled on the floor. At the end of their not so long one-side battle, Draco's head brutally stroke against the pedestal of a statue and, as Ron punched the blond back to the other side of the corridor; Harry caught the sight of a blood's thread dripping along the plinth. He tried to restrain his friend from killing Malfoy but, as the redhead showed him a tear-strained, inflamed face then went back beating Draco, Harry knew he wouldn't be able to make his friend see reason. Harry watched in horror as a puddle of blood silently and fluently extended under the grayish and bruised corpse of the blond. Uncertain of what he did, he stupefied Ron._

During the twenty-four hours Malfoy had then remained resting in the hospital wing; Harry had somehow convinced the headmaster to question the Slytherin about the pendent. All the young man had revealed was that Charlie had offered it to him; he didn't say anything about the life or death of Ron's brother. Dumbledore had refused the utilisation of Veritaserum and had given Ron four months of detention.

_  
In his heart, Harry didn't think Malfoy could have hex Ron. Why would he change into being his old rotten bastard of a self again? But then, he could also wondered why did the blond originally changed?  
_  
Harry stayed outside the tower for ten good minutes till a second year he didn't know decide to get out. He slipped through the now opened entrance. In the common room, a group of first year was assiduously working on their homework, supervised by Malcolm Baddock, a fourth year. In a shadowed corner of the room, Harry discerned who he was looking for. A blond face was discussing with Blaise Zabini and the Bloody Baron but Harry couldn't make out what they said. It seemed Latin.

"That will be all for today, end of the meeting," concluded Malfoy, stretching his arms, "And I need a shower."

Blaise arched his eyebrows, "A shower? We're not six o'clock yet!"

Draco adopted a haughty attitude, just as a colonel interrogating his troops. "Do you mind when I shower, soldier?"

"No, chef!"

"So go back to your own ass, soldier!"

"Yes, chef!"

They grinned as their exchange and Draco happily turned away. Harry suddenly realised where he was standing: ahead the slightly opened door of the bathroom, but also trapped in the corner, Draco coming towards him. Without thinking, he sneaked into the room, followed by the blond, who keyed-closed the door. Harry was trapped.

Slowing his breathing, pressing his back against the wall, wondering how to get out of this shit, he certainly wasn't ready for little Hormones-Harry showing up.  
'Oh. It seems we'll finally glean some information by coming here; as, is he as hot as you heard he is?'

Harry gulped when the seducing blond slowly removed his robes that fall on the floor in a rustle. He closed his eyes when Draco understood unbuttoning his shirt, feeling his blood starting to boil and inappropriate hot wicked thoughts getting held of his brain. The shirt joined the robes and soon the pants came next.

'Hum. Touchy, touchy, aren't we? If you just extend your hand some inches, you have his cute roundly butt. Yes, really cute.'

'Shut up!'

'Okay, okay.'

Harry bit his bottom lip, trying to detach his thoughts from the now utterly naked sexy silver-headed Apollo, but all he could think of was how this perfect milky skin would feel under his hand, and how these thin rosy lips would taste on his tongue. And seeing the slender and delicate body yet showing toned curves of muscles, in front of him was making Harry grow hard with incredibly speed.

'Mooning Myrtle, think of Mooning Myrtle in bikini.'

To Harry's much release, Malfoy finally entered into the shower and, as so, was partially hidden from his sight.

Putting his thoughts in order, he scanned the Marauder's map, still covered by his cape; and saw the Common Room was now empty. He caught Malfoy's wand, which was sticking out of his pants' pocket and exited the bathroom, then, the Slytherin's tower.

Under the shower, the handsome Adonis's lips curved into a smile.

- - - - - - - - - -

Back into the Gryffindor's common room, he found Hermione waiting for him, and explained all that happened, omitting - of course - first, that they were in the bathroom; second, that Draco was naked; and third, all the embarrassing reactions of his body.

"But why did you take his wand?" she finally asked, astonished.

"Hum. I thought that if we had his wand, he would answer our questions about Ron."

"And he wouldn't have answer without us blackmailing him?"

"Ah. Yes."

"He would have if you... Malfoy!"

Harry turned his eyes from the Slytherin's wand he was holding to the way Hermione was looking at and found a freshly washed, cologne smelling, platinum blond.

"Malfoy!" he exclaimed in resonance, "How did you entered?"

"Opening the portrait door, as everyone."

"How could you know the password?", his tone was suspecting.

"Maybe we could talk in private."

Hesitating, Hermione went away.

"Passwords are the last of my problems. Yourself don't care a lot about them, do you, Harry?"

"You..."

"Yes, Potter, I know. I know you were in the Slytherin tower, just some minutes ago. I know you spied on me..." , he grinned mischievously, "... and, by the way... did you appreciate the show?"

Harry's face was by now redder than a too much ripe tomato, and Draco continued staring at him, the thin smile on his lips growing in a from eye to eye smile.

"But I have other things to attend to. May I have my wand back, please?"

Harry opened his mouth to retort but the words stayed stuck in his throat as his eyes fell down on Malfoy's chest.

"You're gaping, Potter."

Harry slowly raised his eyes till seducing and smiling gray ones. "What are you doing starker?"

"Starker? Potter, you're exaggerating, my shirt is slightly opened. But now that I'm informed of your interest, if you're kind, tomorrow I'll open it a little more just for you."

Harry talked some incomprehensible nonsense."No, I, that's not, I, what you."

"Okay, okay, I got it, Potter. You want another show?"

Harry's face illuminated, "Yes. No!", he frowned the eyelids, "And stop doing this!"

Draco took a step forwards, "Doing what?" he asked with big puppy eyes.

And Harry a step backwards, "That! Being kind and smiling and stripping and. Why did you strip if you knew I was here anyway?"

"You were funny."

"Funny?" Harry felt his heart crack and tears coming to his eyes, "You played with me."

"I? You're inverting the roles, Potter! Must I remind you of who was spying on whom?"

"..."

Malfoy sighed at the silence, "I confess, I played on you. Are you happy, now?"

"No."

"No?"

"No, I'm not happy you cold-hearted Slytherin bastard! You played with me! That's... I hate you!"

The second he said it, the second he regretted it. Now, Malfoy would know how he felt about him. The blond would laugh at him the same he must have laugh when Harry had rushed out of the bathroom.

Harry flung down Malfoy's wand and turned his back at him. "Go away," he told with the more convincing and threatening voice he could produce at the moment.

The silence felt again in the common room. Harry was trembling but hoped it didn't show too much. When he had finally found out and recognised his love, he discovered the one in his heart only wanted a good laugh. Hot tears stated falling on his baby-peach cheeks.

"I'm sorry."

Harry turned back instantly, uncaring about his tears. "What did you say?" he whispered in a breath.  
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to hurt your feelings."

The blonde's face was serious. He picked up his wand, put in on the inside pocket of his robes and when his hand appeared again, it was holding a handkerchief. He crossed the few steps that separated him from Harry and, without a word but never quitting his kind-hearted smile, he tenderly dried the trickles of tears.

And there, bordering on immobility and caresses, Harry kept still like this some seconds, resisting the desire to place the entirety of himself against him, to touch him with all his skin.  
At last, Malfoy spoke, "So, why did you spy on me?"

"I was searching an evidence of who could have hex Ron."

"It isn't a Slytherin."

"Do you know who attacked him?"

"Not exactly, but I know the spell and the antidote."

"R... Really?!? Would you... no, of course."

"I accept, but at one condition."

"Which is?"

"That he doesn't come near any of the Slytherins again. He disturbs them."

"Is that all?"

"That's already a lot for him, I'm sure."

"Okay, I agree."

Draco took a small sachet out of a pocket and hangs it on to Harry. "Dilute a pinch in a glass of water and drink it to him slowly. He'll wake up some minutes later."

"Thank you," Harry's eyes were sparkling with happiness.

"You're welcome."

- - - - - -

**Wednesday, October, 7th**

**  
**Harry was in the Gryffindor's common room, sat in the couch, in front of a lightening and warming fire, when Ron entered the place and sat at his side.

"Harry"

"Hum?"

"Can we talk a moment?"

The Gryffindor detached his eyes from the Herbology book he was holding and looked at his best friend. "Sure, what do you want to know?"

"Hum. Actually, I just wanted to talk, you don't need to tell anything if you don't want to, but I didn't know who to speak about this but you, so."

"Ok, I listen."

"It's about Malfoy."

Harry flushed a little and silently thanks the sky that Ron was thrown into the contemplation of the ceiling.

"Do you think he has changed?"

"Hum... I see what you want to say. I think... He's not his usual git anymore and he helped us to save you."

"Is that all?"

'No, he's also damn sexy when he smiles' "Yes, why?"

Ron sighs, "I was searching for Ginny. I wanted to know if she had received a letter from Mum. But when I was going to enter the bedroom, I heard them. There was almost all of the Gryffindor's girls in the room and many boys too that I don't want to name. They were discussing girl's stuff, as what they wanted to wear for the ball in a month, or... or who they fancy."

Harry smiled. "so, which one for you?"

"No one."

"Oh, Ron, I'm sorry, I..."

"No need, I've already Hermione and, by the way, you're in the same case."

"Ah? But who do they like, then?"

"One guy, only one guy, ... Malfoy."

"Ma... Malfoy." Harry flushed. 'No wonder why, I've never seen someone as...'

Hermione, who entered the room, interrupted his thoughts. She watched them a moment.

"Oh, I don't like your looks. What are you up to, this time?"

"Nothing," snapped Ron

"Ron!" Harry casts a reproving glance in his friend's direction "Can you sit with us, 'Mione?"

She sat in front of them.

"Is this right that... Hum... that three quarters of the house fancies Malfoy?"

Harry crossed his legs, aware of his shivering body as some of his dreams came back in his mind.

"Hum..." She thinks for a while, "Yes, I think so."

"But... why?" asked Ron "Why this slimy rotten bastard? I mean... Everyone seems to like him when, last year, they all hated him. It's just too much for me to take, you understand.""

Hermione turned his eyes towards him. It was so strange to see him like that, so miserable. He had matured in three days, at the account of Malfoy's behaviour and no longer got excited as before. She had a comforting smile. "Because... I must admit, Malfoy has always been handsome, or sexy, as you want it. He has manners, style, presence, natural leadership, good-looking aspects, and since he's not a git anymore..." Harry looked at Ron with his I told you so smile "He's the number one of the shaggable student list. And..."

She saw Harry flushed more that it was humanly possible, clutched his hands, then came them undone, then clutched them again, and casts a look at his legs he put closer and closer together. She smiled mischievously, a lightening in the eye, "And I think it do it."

"And you?"

She watched Ron, "What me?"

"You fancy him too?"

She grinned, "Ron, you're jealous!"

It was his time to flush and, lowering his gaze, he whispered a nodding.

"I don't fancy him. I just think that he might be better than what we were thinking about him. And besides, I already have a wonderful boyfriend."

Ron's face enlightened again and he stood up. "Am going to bed, Harry, you come?"

Harry was going to follow him when Hermione cleared her throat, "Harry, I need to speak to you a little if you don't mind."

"Hum... no, no," he sat again.

"So, what do you think of Malfoy?"

"M... me? I... I don't know. We barely fought this year. Why?"

"Why? Oh, but you know why, Harry. Malfoy is attractive, in a way or another. There's not a single girl in all Hogwarts who doesn't think so."

"Even you?"

"Even me. But what I want to say is that half the boys also feel that way towards him."

"Ah. So many?"

"Yes, so many," she grinned, "Must I include you in the number?"

"No!"

"Harry, Harry. I know about the love life of half the Gryffindors, I know about yours. Watch me right in the eyes and tell me again you don't fancy him."

He watched her "I... I..." and turned his eyes away.

"Whoa. The Boy Who Lived wants to get into his arch nemesis's pants!"

"Hermione, not so loud."

"Harry, there's no problem in that."

He stood up in a jump.

"No problem? There's no problem in wanting to have sex with a Slytherin? I mean, he's been kind and all but he's still a Slytherin and the others wouldn't..."

"Harry, calm and sit down."

He does.

"Since you actually have not been paying attention to the rumors, you mustn't know the real nature of Malfoy."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean that if he's the sexiest student Hogwarts have had in years, if not in centuries, he also uses his charms well."

He raised en eyebrow, "I don't understand."

"In one month, he's been bedding at least a quarter of the seventh years, all houses mixed."

"You... You've got to be kidding."

"No, I'm serious. I also think that he's infatuated with Seamus."

"Seamus? You mean, my roommate has sex with Draco?"

"Oh, that's Draco, now?"

He flushed "Huh... no, I..."

"It's all right, but Harry, I must know one thing: what do you sincerely and verily want from him?"

"I... I..." he hesitates a bit, "I dream of it, I dream of it every night, him doing all this incredible things to me, with his hands, with his tongue, with his..." he stopped, embarrassed.

"I get the picture. You got him under your skin."

He sights, "You don't know how hard it is when we're paired in potions. It's driving me mad. I just can think of one thing: to grab him and to tell him to have his wicked way with me, there, even in the front of the entire class."

"Oh, my! Harry, you're obsessed by him, you've always been and..."

"Always? I was not obsessed by him!"

"Yes, you were! He was the only one able to make you feel alive, I've seen your eyes lightened before each quidditch match against Slytherin. Even when you were depressed, one single fight against him and you got better. He made you live, Harry, you can't deny it! And now that he isn't arguing anymore and that you're grown up, the needs change. And his bloody to die for body doesn't help you."

"But... what can I do, Hermione?" he withdraws his arms over himself, "I can see him, I can smell him, I can feel him. If Ron discovers that, I'm..."

"No. Harry, please, think by yourself. You're the only one concerned here."

"Yes. But there's nothing I can do. Draco. He's a Malfoy and I'm Harry Potter, we're to be enemies, people will never see it another way. I come to a deadlock."

"You never cared about what others thought before."

"But he does. He won't agree to tarnish his image by hanging out with me."

"He saved Ron, remember. He saved Ron because you asked him to, and moreover, if you can't seduce him sentimentally, you can try the bodily way."

Harry's eyes opened wide, "What..."

"I've heard that he has a... rather insatiable sexual appetite."

"Hermione!"

"What? It's the verity! Rumors say he's out every nights and I've seen it, he goes to the fifth floor very often."

"Seen?"

"I'm Head Girl, Harry, I must know when students are out at night. Did you know he had refused the Head Boy's post?"

"No, why?"

"I don't know. It must have been too much responsibilities for a guy who doesn't respect rules."

"Hum."

"Harry, think about it a while, what you really want from him. Then, we'll improvise."

"OK. am going to bed, if you don't mind."

"Good night. or rather good dreams, not too many shagging, Harry, we have Herbology and DADA tomorrow."

"I'll remember it, g'night."


	6. Chapter 6 Thefts

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, only the Snake's Clan  
  
Remark : I hate this chapter, but I have to put it or you'd understand nothing. Chapters 7 and 8 are coming soon. Thanks to all who reviewed, I love you ! ! ! ! ! If some chapters are said loaded but don't want to appear, change the adress. For the chapter 7, erase 6 and write 7, the page should be loaded.  
  
Chapter 6: Thefts  
  
* * * * * * *  
Saturday, October 10th  
Harry is walking, heading for a place that not even he knows. His feet direct him but his mind have no say in the task. He doesn't care. The silence in the corridors is the same as is in him, calm and peaceful. An angel comes to meet him. He puts a hand on Harry's neck in a caress, the other on his back, and then draws the boy in his embrace. Their faces are touching, their lips pressed against one another. There is no strength in the kiss, simply a fond cuddle. The sensation to breath the same air, to be reunited as a single human being, is strong. Bliss and serenity surround them as they slowly fall on a bed. Silk sheets revive Harry's passion and he encircles the angel's waist with his legs. They don't have robes or shoes anymore. Harry is drowned beneath a spring of kisses, and he arches his back towards the angel as perfect lips brush and pet his throat. They don't make any noise; only passion can be felt of the movements, like a heaven that envelops them, a mix of sweat and panting.  
  
Harry awoke in his bed.  
  
'A dream . Ah yes, that explains why there was a bed in the middle of nowhere.' Harry thought as he poked his hand out the velvet draperies on his bed and reached around on his nightstand table for his glasses and contemplated his dream. Putting his glasses on and looking around he quickly noticed his roommates finishing dressing for the day and got out of bed.  
  
It had been a month now, that he'd had his first dream. After having the same dream for a few days now, he had strategically opted for casting a soundproof charm over his bed when he went to sleep, so that his roommates wouldn't be awakened by the noises he made and he himself could enjoy the dreams longer. They haunted him deliciously every night, and each morning. He always woke up covered in sweat, moaning. The cold shower was compulsory, but he had to admit it was a pleasant way to start a new day though.  
  
While he was slightly late in joining his friends at the Gryffindor table, he discovered them all occupied reading the Hogwarts Herald. Only Justin was standing on his chair, grinning, seeming to survey the current state of affairs. The Hufflepuff had done quite a good job with his plan of a school newspaper. He finally had clinched a bargain with the Daily Prophet, obtaining the consent that his newspaper would excessively deliver news of the entire wizarding world at Hogwarts. Harry walked over to Hermione and squeezed himself into a spot near her.  
  
"Ah, Harry! Look, Gringotts has been burgled last night." Hermione said as she pointed to a moving picture in her Hogwarts Herald.  
  
"Again?" Harry asked, foraging for his favorite breakfast food from the great table.  
  
She lowered her gaze from the Herald, "How again?" she asked, furrowing her brows.  
  
"First year, philosopher stone." Harry replied, spying his prey and swooping his hand down for the kill.  
  
"Oh yes, that's right" Hermione breathed as though she couldn't believe she had forgotten such an incident, "But this is a different problem. They say they don't have a single idea how it could have happened. The thief must have known all the passwords, because the alarms and wards didn't sound."  
  
"How did they discover the robbery then?" Harry asked while taking a bite of his delicious raspberry jam prey.  
  
"Well it seems the Goblins were taking watches, and they saw someone flying in the tunnels. It seems the thief is a really good flyer . Where were you last night, Harry?" Hermione put down her paper and asked Harry playfully with a grin.  
  
Harry paused, "In my bed, why?" he asked innocently while finishing his toast and spying the next piece.  
  
"That's what you say." as she tapped Harry on the shoulder mocking his innocence.  
  
Harry suddenly realized what she was insinuating, " 'Mione, that's not amusing, you know it's not me."  
  
She smiled, "of course, I was just teasing you."  
  
He grunted, "You can tease anyone in the school yet you chose me ." Harry asked in an accusatory manner, somewhat perturbed, but only because he couldn't find more of his favorite prey.  
  
"Yes." Hermione stated plainly, somewhat taken aback by Harry's lack of humor "Aurors pursued the thief through all of England, then from London to Scotland. They lost him then."  
  
"Scotland?" Harry asked in a more relaxed tone as he found more of his favorite prey had materialized on a plate right in front of him "Hogwarts's at the border, isn't it?"  
  
"Yes, now you understand why I teased you?"  
  
He nodded in a sudden understanding, "the thief would be here . Teacher or student? . Maybe it's Padfoot!"  
  
"No, he would have written to you . I think." Hermione lowered her voice at Harry's sudden outburst, and didn't want to cause any more attention to them.  
  
"Then who ."  
  
Harry's eyes opened wide as a scene came back in his mind, a scene that had taken place one month ago. Bill, working on Gringotts' protection, had given a plan to Draco and said 'There's the map, with codes and access doors. The rest is yours.'  
  
He looked up and glimpsed at the blond.  
  
"Hermione, what was in the vault, at Gringotts?"  
  
"It doesn't say," Hermione had just rechecked the Herald to make sure her statement was in fact true, "The goblins themselves don't have a clue, and it was kept secret by the Minister of Magic."  
  
"And I bet that no but the Minister of Magic knows about it."  
  
"Exactly." Hermione said matter-of-factly, but curiously at the same time wondering where Harry was going with this.  
  
'So, it could very perfectly well be Draco, but why? And what was stolen?' Harry thought to himself while staring at the blond Slytherin. 'Who else is as good at flying as fast as I can?'  
  
At that instant, the blond turned his head in his direction, and Harry could see shadows under his eyes.  
  
They both smiled a knowing smile.  
  
'Maybe if I could speak to him about the theft, he'll tell me something . Harry, my friend, you're dreaming again.' and he sighed profoundly, winning a bemused glance from Hermione.  
  
As it was Saturday, they didn't have class that afternoon. Ron, as always, had dragged Harry, on the quidditch pitch to train on their team organization. Ron had stopped abruptly, his jaw dropped. Sat on a bench, Hermione was smilingly speaking with their new flying teacher - Krum. If it had been anyone else, Ron wouldn't have minded, but he couldn't stand the young Professor, ever since Hermione and Viktor had gone out during their fifth year.  
  
Leaving his friend to his problems, Harry went forward to another part of the field, where two students, of which Harry noticed one as Seamus Finnigan, were dismounting their brooms, next to a third, whom was standing. His back turned to Harry; Draco was speaking to Wilkes, the Slytherin's new seeker, as the young nodded turned and walked away, Malfoy caught Seamus by the arm and kissed him passionately; a kiss that Seamus seemed eager to give back, but he saw Harry first.  
  
Harry's eyes were so full of feelings, that he couldn't have described them all even if he wanted to. He was surprised firstly, that Draco, a Slytherin, would dare kiss Seamus, a Gryffindor, in the middle of the quidditch pitch, for all to see. Then again, he already knew they were sleeping together, thanks to Hermione; but to see them kiss in front of him, that was another matter entirely. It was pain to see someone else with his love. It was jealousy not to be this one it was desire to be.  
  
Draco turned around.  
  
"Harry? How are you?" Draco asked, composing himself after the kiss.  
  
If Harry was waiting for a question from Draco, it certainly wasn't this one and, surprised, he mumbled that he was fine.  
  
"Happy to hear it," the blond went on, smiling, "you seemed a little out of this world, recently. You want the pitch?"  
  
"Hum . Yes, if you're finished." Harry was forcing himself to not tremble or shake, and considering he was still coming to grips with his feelings for Draco, it was considerably hard for him to do.  
  
"I am. It's all yours. I've to do some research in the library. See you later." Draco excused himself smiled, and nodded to both boys before kissing Seamus one last time and then left for the library.  
  
Harry coughed at their awkward silence, "Hum . so you're with Malfoy?"  
  
Seamus smiled, "Yes, he's quite a good guy when he wants to be . and in bed . in bed, he's a god."  
  
Harry's ears and face went red in seconds, "A . ah?" was all he could reply.  
  
"Yes, you'll have to try him one of this nights ." A blushing Seamus said while shifting his robes so that the other boy couldn't see just how much of a god Draco was.  
  
'Whenever he wants to.' Harry thought.  
  
"Harry?" Seamus asked, noticing how lost Harry looked  
  
"Hum?" Harry replied absently, as if not there.  
  
"D'you fancy Draco?" Seamus was no longer blushing but looked concerned for the other boy since he seemed very out of it, realization dawning on him.  
  
"A lot," Harry replied hazily, then realizing what he had just said stuttered, "err . I mean ."  
  
"I know what you mean, Harry. Why do you keep it a secret? Nobody would care." A grinning Seamus replied, trying to console Harry and hide his surprise at the other boy's sudden outburst.  
  
"I don't think so." Harry said shaking his head and to emphasize his point, put up both hands in a manner of protest. Harry was unsure of who he was trying to convince.  
  
"See me, I fancy him openly and there's no problem." Seamus said in a rather it's-ok-to-admit-it manner.  
  
"Maybe." Harry added resolutely, "You'll tell Ron that I've gone to work in the library?" Harry asked Seamus before running off at full speed to the dormitory for his books and then to the library.  
  
As Harry ran towards the library, his books and quills in hand, the smile on his lips didn't disappear.  
  
'If I hurry, I'll get there before him, that way I can watch him arrive.' Harry thought as he raced passed people and said his apologies to his accident victim's along the way.  
  
Harry waited for about fifteen minutes before the high wooden doors finally opened. Harry didn't see anyone or anything but Draco. The rest of the world was a scenery barely discernible, a snug and exotic mist of perfume, in which he wadded to to snuggle his love. When he waited for him at his table and saw him coming, it was as if a thousand suns enlightened the sky and transformed the utter Earth. The floor became a crimson carpet, the tabletop a nacelle, people around them became a ballet of gold-hemmed shadows, and Draco arrived in this glory, he was the middle of the world, he walked towards him and Harry could feel a cloud of light inflate in his heart.  
  
"Hi," Draco asked, and then followed with a furrow of his brow "Did you give up on quidditch practice?"  
  
"Hummm" Harry replied somewhere between an answer and a statement, lost in the awe of Draco.  
  
"Can I sit here?" Draco asked, pointing to an empty seat across from Harry.  
  
"Hummm." Harry replied again with the same tone.  
  
Reluctantly realizing he was making a fool of himself by staring at Draco with his elbows on the table and huge lost eyes, he jumped out of his reverie with a start.  
  
"Err. Yes, you can sit. I. I have my curses and maledictions assignment to do." He said as he started frantically rummaging for said assignment.  
  
"You still have four days to do it. Have you become studious, all in a go?" Draco asked, somewhat amused at the boys sudden outburst of nervousness.  
  
"Must be yours and Hermione's influence." Harry replied as he gave out a soft noise of triumph as he found his assignment.  
  
"Do you need any help?" The blond Slytherin asked.  
  
"I'll be okay, you have your own homework too, and I'm sure." Harry pointed, at the other boy's small stack of books he was carrying in one hand.  
  
"Not a problem, I have a month to write this crap." Draco replied, dropping his stack down on the table with a small thud.  
  
". How do you manage?" Harry asked with a slight open mouth. It seemed to Harry that Draco had just as much homework as Hermione did.  
  
"What?" Draco asked looking somewhat confused by the Raven-haired boys question.  
  
"To do all this. You're always helping others, Slytherins, Seamus, me . and by the way, I got a hundred and sixty percent on my astronomy essay, thank you," Harry said while bowing his head in appreciation "but when do you work for yourself?"  
  
"For the Astronomy, you're welcome. And I work at night." Draco replied, taking the other boy's questions as a sign to sit.  
  
"When do you sleep, then?"  
  
"I don't need much sleep, you know." Draco said looking up briefly before starting his own homework.  
  
Attention and concern were now glowing in Harry's eyes. Since the beginning of their seventh year, Draco was almost always surrounded by students. Some asked him for help with homework, but they were mainly personal questions, about his love life, family or future. Malfoy appeared to remember all they said to him and to find ways to help or comfort each of them.  
  
They worked all that afternoon till the diner, if peeping could be considered working. They took a short break at the Great Hall and ate dinner, then went back in the library. As Mrs. Pince was pulling the last remaining students out of their books, and as they were in the middle of a charm dissertation they finally decided to finish up in the Slytherin dungeons.  
  
Since Hermione spent most of her time with Ron or resolving her head girl's problems, Harry was now used to going into the dungeons. The Slytherins didn't act as if they liked him, but they weren't hostile towards him either. The only one to be openly suspicious toward Harry was Blaise Zabini, and he couldn't make out why.  
  
They studied potions - a subject Draco was really good at - and, at almost midnight, examining the potion the blond had used to cure Ron some time ago, that was a elaborate mixing of wormwood; that burns the opacities of the body and assists psychic receptivity and hawthorn; that repairs wounds of the etheric body, associated with fumitory and camphor to exorcise.  
  
"Harry?"  
  
The Gryffindor raised his tired eyes and looked at Draco.  
  
"It's one in the morning, you're exhausted. You'd better go and get some sleep."  
  
Harry sighed, looking at his watch and realizing the blond was right, "Yes, you're right."  
  
Harry began to pack up his things when Draco lifted his hand to stop him.  
  
"You didn't really think I was going to let you walk alone in the castle at this hour of the night?" he asked, frowning his brows.  
  
"Err. Yes?" Harry asked, to tired to really think or argue.  
  
"You're mad. It's dangerous, you could get yourself killed." Draco said going a tad hysterical  
  
"But ." Harry said reflexively  
  
"You'll sleep here tonight and that's that!" Draco said while maneuvering the other boy to his bed.  
  
His voice was one that didn't accepted contradictions. Besides, Harry could feel he would appreciate the sleep in the Slytherin dungeons, near Draco. The blond guided him to a small bedroom, decorated with green and silver tapestries. The Slytherin then handed pajamas to him and exited the room, kindly smiling.  
  
'Okay, that was quick . My Harry, you were a fool to think he was going to sleep with you . But he loaned you his pajamas, and God, what pajamas . dark green silk.'  
  
He swiftly put them on and moved into the bed.  
  
'Hum . It smells of Draco. I wonder how many students he brought into this one bed. Surely a lot, according to Hermione . Why does he always act like that? He's kind, he takes me in his arms, and he lends me his bed and clothes, how come he doesn't really notice me? What more can I do? . Maybe talk to him, tell him how I feel. Yes, exactly it, and if he doesn't like me, then I would lose him . after all, Seamus is really handsome, the most attractive of the Gryffindors, so what I am compared to him? Why would he want me when he has Seamus . But maybe since Seamus knows my feelings towards Draco, he will be kind enough to let me him? ."  
  
Relaxing, he fell into a world of happy dreams, where Draco and he loved each other forever, his parents coming back as ghosts during their grandiose marriage to tell him how proud they were of their son.  
  
* * * * * * * Sunday, October the 11th  
  
A hoot awoke him. The sun was pointing from the horizon. Perched on a chair's back, a tiny brown owl was watching him with interest, probably wondering what a dressed student was doing in Draco's bed.  
  
Harry put on his robes, went down the spiraling stairs and was going to pass the door that connects to the common room when he heard whispering.  
  
"I don't want to become a death eater, Draco ." a voice stated a fear very unlike what most Slytherins were capable of producing.  
  
"We'll help you, don't worry, when will the ceremony take place?" Draco asked, making it sound as though he would do everything in his power to not let the person become a Death Eater.  
  
"Next Sunday." The voice replied with dread, as if their life was now over.  
  
"Come and see me Saturday evening. I'll find a way by then." Draco sounded as though gears were already in motion of a plan.  
  
"Thank you. Really, thank you. I don't know what to do, and if my father discovers that I don't want to serve the dark lord, he'll kill me."  
  
"I know ." It sounded almost as if Draco were reminiscing about something horrible.  
  
There was a blank.  
  
"You mustn't have had much sleep last night. We're Sunday, go and sleep some more. I'll wake you for lunch." Draco had told the other person, and it sounded as though he were ushering them away. The noise of footsteps, a door closing then nothing. Harry slowly entered the common room. Draco sat in the middle of it at a desk surrounded by dozens of parchments and books.  
  
"Harry? Did you sleep well?" Draco looked up and asked with a hint of a tired smile.  
  
"Hum. Yes, perfectly. Did you work all night?" Harry asked with notable concern in his voice.  
  
"No, I had a three hour nap." Draco replied, looking back down to his rolls of parchment.  
  
"Ah . well I think I'll go back to Gryffindor tower before everyone wakes up, or they'll worry over me. I'll see you at breakfast?" Harry asked making to leave.  
  
"Yes, as always. Bye." Draco was now fully immersed in his work now.  
  
"Bye." Harry nodded and walked to his common room.  
  
As Harry exited the dungeons, he was back to questioning what he just heard.  
  
'I didn't know that there were some Slytherins that didn't want to become Death Eaters. They're forced into it, that's a little like me being The Boy Who Lived. Maybe I can help them. Maybe Professor Dumbledore will be able to do something.'  
  
Hermione was observing Harry trying the robes on she had brought him the preceding day. Ron had been jealous to see her with Viktor, her last boyfriend. As their seeker was gone and Ron not in the mood anymore to play quidditch, they had decided to go to Hogsmeade. Ginny, who had been Harry's girlfriend for a time last year, until she discovered he was gay, and now hanged out with Neville. Hermione had accepted to go with her and buy new robes for the dark-haired young man. She ignored, of course, the real aim of Harry's being well dressed but had been glad of their shopping session. Not seeing her friend come back at eleven o'clock, Hermione had rightly assumed he would spend the night in the dungeons, after having hardly worked, between two glances in the direction of a certain blond.  
  
"Hermione, do gray pants look good with black robes? . Or rather black pants with dark green robes? . Or ."  
  
"My God, Harry! You're sounding like Ginny last year ." Hermione said with a threat that she'd slap him if he kept it up.  
  
"Re . really?"  
  
"Oh yes! She would hesitate for hours about what to wear to please you the most."  
  
"She was like this?" Harry asked confused that Ginny would act in such a way.  
  
"Yes." Hermione stated rather exasperatedly  
  
"And I'm sounding girlish?" A look of slow realization came on Harry's face  
  
"Hum." Hermione only added in her version of statement and question.  
  
"This is a disaster . which color do you think fits me the best? Black or dark green?"  
  
Hermione smiled motherly at her friend. Nothing would distract him from his fittings.  
  
"Dark green. So, how's your affair with Draco progressing?"  
  
"I slept in his bed last night."  
  
"Oh, Harry! I didn't know you were so rapid." She shot him a look that resembled one a football player would give a teammate for scoring a touchdown.  
  
"No, it's not like that. I slept alone in his bed." Harry said while fidgeting with his clothes and robes.  
  
"Pity for you, but that's a beginning. Was it pleasing?" Hermione asked helping Harry straighten his clothing.  
  
"Best night I've had for years. No nightmares, only relaxing dreams." A slight sign escaped him.  
  
"Of marriage and a happy life, I bet." Hermione only rolled her eyes at her own statement.  
  
"Yes!" he admitted with a big grin, "you know, it's such a . such a great feeling to be in love!" Harry smiled at his words and laughed mentally at his thoughts and dreams for he and Draco.  
  
"Life is beautiful, stars everywhere and Draco your love angel."  
  
"How d'you know that?" Harry asked suddenly scared Hermione was able to read dreams and thoughts.  
  
"It's called love Harry, you just said it. You're finally going to talk to him at the diner?" Hermione asked, jumping up and down.  
  
"I don't know. For now, I simply just want to please him."  
  
"You're brave enough to fight against You Know Who, but not to tell someone you love him. That's so Gryffindorish." Hermione 'tched and stopped bouncing at Harry's sudden lack of confidence.  
  
"What do you mean?" Harry looked at her, somewhat hurt by her comment.  
  
"What I mean is, Gryffindors are brave against danger but afraid to face their own feelings."  
  
"That's just me and maybe Ron . and you . and ."  
  
"And all the house, except Ginny who always loved you." Hermione stopped her thought short; as she didn't want to dwell on it for fear that it would ruin the mood.  
  
Harry seemed willing to go along with it.  
  
"There's Dean, he's with Lavender." Harry said breaking the sudden silence  
  
"But he loves Seamus." Hermione said as if baffled that is wasn't obvious.  
  
"Ahhh!!! ." Harry was suddenly beginning to formulate a plan in his mind and was smiling while doing it.  
  
"Why are you smiling?" Hermione asked, suddenly aware Harry knew something that she did not.  
  
"Because ... err . because Seamus is with Draco and if Dean loves Seamus and finally tells him ." Harry stopped unsure if he should tell Hermione of his less than noble intentions.  
  
"If he tells him, then Seamus will stop seeing Draco and he'll fall into your arms, that's it?" Hermione finished his thought for him and was going to start poking holes in his plan but she thought herself better.  
  
"Exactly." Harry said with a nod of triumph  
  
"You're devilish, Harry. But that appears a good and right idea. Now, finish dressing or you'll never be ready for the diner." Hermione finally handed him a combination pair of pants and robes that would look stunning on Harry, and surely get Draco's attention.  
  
* * * * * * Monday, October the 12th  
  
Against Harry's hope, Draco didn't show himself to diner at the Great Hall. Harry went to the dungeons in search of the Slytherin but the blond had disappeared. Night and sunshine had fallen again over the castle and Draco still hadn't reappeared.  
  
Harry was in one of the rooms of the astronomy tower, near the dungeons. He had just come back from a little morning flying outside. Flying around in circles on the Quidditch pitch was useful, it allowed Harry to think of what bothered him without being disturbed by his Housemates or worrying about where he flied. He went out the tower, and, noticing the light of Filch's lamp just in front of him, only had a second to regret that he lent his invisibility cloak to Ron; when Filch turned and saw him.  
  
In Dumbledore's office were the Headmaster, and two Aurors. Harry really didn't know what to make of the situation, and silently wondered why their Aurors were at Hogwarts. Dumbledore seemed embarrassed.  
  
"Hum . Harry, Mr. Filch said he caught you in the astronomy tower. Is that right?" A curious twinkle in the Headmaster's eye told Harry that everything was going to be all right.  
  
"Yes, sir." Harry replied with a bit of apprehension  
  
"With your broom." Confirmed the Headmaster  
  
"Yes, sir." Harry added an eyebrow furrow, wondering how else Dumbledore would have thought he was flying. Harry noted though that upon his answer the two Aurors were nodding their heads in a disapproving fashion. Harry didn't understand why the Aurors were so happy about his answers.  
  
"Can I know what you were doing outside at this hour?" Dumbledore asked with that same twinkle in his eyes  
  
"I couldn't sleep, so I went flying." Harry replied truthfully, still confused why there were Aurors here and why they were so disapproving of him. Why did they keep doing that, it was really quite annoying.  
  
Dumbledore coughed, "Did you know there was an other robbery at Gringotts this night?"  
  
"Wha ." Harry asked confusedly but the answer had dawned on him as he kept glancing between Dumbledore and the two Aurors, now, he understood. The Aurors were here because they suspected the same thing that Hermione and Harry did: the thief was from Hogwarts. And as a fool, he, the best seeker in centuries, let himself be caught, his broom in hand the night of the theft. This was just wonderful!  
  
"No, I didn't know." Harry was slightly unnerved at what might happen to him.  
  
"If you allow me, sir, we'd like to interrogate him alone," One of the Aurors said.  
  
"Yes, of ." His sentence was cut off by the opening of the Gargoyle.  
  
"Headmaster."  
  
Harry slowly turned his head to see who entered and felt a quiver of fear running down his spine, and cold sweat on his back, it was Professor Snape. With Snape here, his future was set: jail without passing go, and not collecting 200 galleons.  
  
"What can I do for you, Severus?" Dumbledore asked in a very calm and relaxed tone. He appeared willing to use Snape's coming as a distraction.  
  
"I heard Mr. Potter was suspected of tonight's robbery." Snape said, casting a disapproving sneer only he was capable of achieving after seven years of teaching him.  
  
"That is a fact, yes."  
  
"I wanted to add that I did saw him going out with his broom." Snape added a grimace and stared at him very mischievously, as if knowing that he was deciding his fate.  
  
This was it, Hogwarts had been a happy part of his life, and Harry would regret not being able to ever some back to it.  
  
"That was approximately an hour ago. He wouldn't have had the time to go there and come back from Gringotts in a so short time." Snape stressed the fact that he couldn't have done both, but didn't put it past the boy to try something like this.  
  
Harry's mind illuminated again.  
  
"Are you sure of what you affirm?" Dumbledore asked as if for the two Aurors, not he himself.  
  
An Auror had spoken, and Snape answered him without a second guess, keeping his straight face, his voice neither sounding forced, angered or shivering.  
  
"I am."  
  
"Well, then we are sorry for ever disturbing you. We can only congratulate you for your night watches and preventing us from making a mistake. If you permit, sir, we have to go and continue our searches."  
  
"I am happy that we've been able to help you."  
  
When the Aurors were gone . Dumbledore smiled at both Professor and student  
  
"I didn't know that you did watches, Severus." Dumbledore asked in a somewhat mused manner.  
  
"I don't. Mr. Malfoy is the one who saw him. I reluctantly agreed to interfere in their investigations." His eyes were sending a million daggers to Harry.  
  
"Mr. Malfoy. Of course . the young boy who never sleeps." Dumbledore turned his attention to Harry "You may go, Harry. Severus, I assume you have some . other things to entertain me with," asked Dumbledore as he dismissed Harry.  
  
"Yes sir." Snape replied before turning to Harry and shooing him out of the Headmasters office.  
  
"Now that Mr. Potter is gone, may I know what really happened this night, Severus?"  
  
"That is why I am here. I think you already know whom the thief is ." Severus spoke very calmly, but had a tone that he didn't like to play games.  
  
"I do. To be good at flying and know so much about dark magic, there was only one student that could fit that description." Dumbledore mused to himself.  
  
"This morning, Draco brought me a potion vial and many parchments containing formulas and an ingredients list."  
  
"So he succeeded in stealing the two vaults' contents. The boy is full of resources. Do you know how he did it?"  
  
"I think he has an ally in Gringotts itself, but it's an assumption. I don't know much." Snape replied with a tone of bitterness.  
  
"I thought he told you everything." Dumbledore asked, not surprised, but thoughtfully.  
  
"That was back in first and second year, he has learned to keep his secrets from then on."  
  
"Of course, it's the Slytherin way: the less you reveal, the more in security you'll feel."  
  
Snape nodded and added, "May you share what you know about this potion? It would be . fairer."  
  
"I'd found out about it, Seventeen years ago, when Voldemort was still rising, some dark magus decided to switch sides, as you did, and to fight against him. Contrarily at you though, they didn't join us on the Light Side. Preferring opposing dark magic to dark magic. Each one with his specialty, they invented formulas and spells to create the most powerful potion never realized, intending to use it against their former master. But then, Voldemort was finally defeated, all of them denounced, arrested and send to Azkaban where they died many years ago, and the potion was never finished."  
  
"And the potion is ." Snape asked interrupting the Headmaster with a piqued curiosity about this mysterious potion.  
  
"Yes. Potion and spells were scripted and hidden in Gringotts, in two different vaults, protected by so many dark wards it dissuaded thieves during all these years. When Voldemort came back, I thought of using it but waited; this potion is made of such dark magic that it has to be our last resort. When I learned about the robbery two days ago, I decided to send someone to steal the other part of the magus's invention, but it seems he failed." Dumbledore was slightly unhappy about the last part of his conversation.  
  
"Someone ." Snape wondered as to whom Dumbledore would trust with such an important task.  
  
"Sirius Black."  
  
Snape groaned but said nothing.  
  
"What I don't know is; how young Mr. Malfoy intends to use this potion, and how he'll be able to finish it?" continued Dumbledore.  
  
"I think you must know Draco has changed." Snape said, hating to point out the painfully obvious.  
  
"In a lot of ways, I have noticed." Dumbledore replied softly, as he understood what Snape was getting at.  
  
"It seems he discovered something at the beginning of the summer that made him want to change. He spent the holidays asking about magic."  
  
"Dark?" Dumbledore asked, unsure of his opinions of Draco for a brief second  
  
"Partly. But also White, Elemental and another I didn't know. His skills in Potions have considerably increased, as in Charms. I also think he intends to become an animagus if he isn't yet."  
  
"I didn't know. That is interesting. Do you have any idea what he will do of this learning?" Dumbledore's fears subsided.  
  
"No. But he worked so hard that he finally fell sick and had to stay in bed almost a week. He spent it talking to the young Zabini about things they are eager to keep as secrets."  
  
"And you said yesterday that they are always together? Maybe this is simply romantic." Dumbledore felt a reminiscence of love and youth fill his heart.  
  
"Hum . There is no romance between them. More like a relation . of . hierarchy ." Snape was careful to choose his words as he was unsure how to phrase the two's pairing.  
  
"Severus? Is there a problem?"  
  
"Hum. No. Just . a thing I need to verify. To come back to the potion, I am not able to cast the majority of the spells. Draco will have to cast them himself or have to ask to someone for help."  
  
"Is he a danger to the students?" Dumbledore asked not willing to put his students in jeopardy no matter what the cost.  
  
"Knowing dark magic? I don't think so, he seems to go along well with Potter this year, and with most of the Gryffindors too." Snape said in a bemused way.  
  
'Honestly, Gryffindors are really very easy to manipulate'  
  
"This boy is plotting something of his own that I am not sure I want to know . You have remained in close touch with Lucius Malfoy since the come back of his Lord, don't you?" Dumbledore asked, curious as to if Snape knew his student as well as he thought he did once.  
  
"Err . yes, rather close."  
  
"Can you do some research on his side? Maybe he knows something."  
  
"I will." Snape said and waited for the Headmaster to see if there was anything else he wanted to discuss.  
  
"Good, then. I think you have a class now correct? You may go. I also need to see Mr. Finnigan. Fascinating these little 'Tracers' he created." Dumbledore held up a tiny tracer that Finnigan had created and placed around the school. He intended on questioning the boy about them later. 


	7. Chapter 7 Tears and regrets modif

Chapter 7: Tears and regrets  
  
Tuesday, October 13th  
  
"Professor?" Draco Malfoy asked his Head of House indifferently.  
  
"Yes Draco?" Severus spoke knowing who had come to see him in his office and acknowledged the student without even turning his head up from the parchments he was working on.  
  
"How is the potion going?" Malfoy, with a slight tone of anticipation asked.  
  
"Badly." Snape knew he was going to have to answer this question at some point, figuring to get it out of the way earlier than later, "the potion itself isn't difficult to prepare and is ready, but the spells that are needed are too difficult for me to perform." He finished his sentence looking at his favourite potions student, who he noticed seemed to have done some growing up since last term.  
  
"I have already cast most of them on a testing specimen," Draco said, pulling out a vial and showing it to Professor Snape. "Do you think you can work on it?" Draco handed the vial to him.  
  
"Yes, it should be enough," Snape looked at his student closer. To anyone else it would have been only a mere quick glance, but the innate abilities of Slytherins made it possible to size his student up quickly, Snape continued with an odd feeling of sorrow for Draco "you still haven't told me what you plan to do with it."  
  
Draco had noticed Snape looking at him, and was slightly abashed at what he thought was a flash of empathy from his Professor but he dismissed the thought as quickly as he had seen it leave, all the while not letting his emotions discern him. "I don't know yet; it will depend on the capacities the potion will give the drinker."  
  
"You are aware that you're destroying maybe the only way to kill Voldemort?" Snape questioned with his normal stern tone, trying to make sure it was stated as more fact than questioning.  
  
"Are you not happy of that?" Draco's tone was suspicious but with a cool calm to it, keeping his shield in place as if ready to strike at any signs of weakness or betrayal with the Professors following words.  
  
"I don't know," came Snape's reply, rather indifferently "it might be dangerous."  
  
"For Dumbledore and his muggle-lovers." Draco spat with a vile venom which seemed to ebb from his words, almost visibly.  
  
"No," Snape replied with just as much calm as Draco had said before, ignoring the boy's obvious attempts to bait him into an argument of some sort "for every person who know the ingredients and spells of this potion."  
  
"If I didn't know you better, I might think you didn't have full faith in our master." A thin smile played on the edge of Draco's lips.  
  
"I do trust our master," Severus recited quickly, "I am just prudent." He gave a curt nod of his head, as if proving that he was outraged that the younger would come to such an inclination.  
  
"I prefer this course of action." He was pointing to the potion vial with his eyes. "How does it work?"  
  
"This potion is to be prepared progressively, in different stages." Snape prepared himself for a long explanation of what he had discovered of his findings. "The first is a Primary Nawglan, or the Sacred Nine. It's composed of River's Willow, Rock's Hazel tree, Marshland's Alder, Waterfall's Birch tree, Shadow's Ash, Plain's Yew tree, Valley's Elm, Mountain's Sorb and Sun's Evergreen Oak. Plucked and combusted during only the night of full moon. This potion will dissolve the body of the one who drinks it. It's a powerful poison. I have already casted the most protective spell I know, I believe it is enough. The Magus said to add crushed chelidoine leaves, braked with a mole heart, and diluted in the equivalent of a forium potion." Snape finished tired from his long explanation, but knowing the younger would ask him a few more obvious questions, braced himself and inhaled another breath, making it seem as though he was expecting everything the boy was going to ask.  
  
"What does it do?" Draco asked, his mind satisfied with the knowledge of what he'd just been told.  
  
"It gives the drinker the ability, to go trough walls." Snap added, seeming to satisfy the younger boy's knowledge.  
  
"That is the effect of Chelidoine and Mole alone. Why the Nawglan if you have to break its power by a spell?" Draco furrowed one of his brows while raising the other as he asked Professor Snape.  
  
"I'm not sure really; Nawglan is a part of potion magic that disappeared long ago. We'll discover that later, I suppose," Snape replied, not willing to begin testing of the potion on humans just yet, "but for now, it's necessary that I know how long the potion can affect a human organism."  
  
"To prepare the exact measurements of the other ingredients." Draco finished for him.  
  
"Yes." Snape replied looking at Draco in the awkward silence that had just seemed to come up between them.  
  
They were silent for a moment. Draco grabbed the prepared potion vial and put it in his inside robes' pocket.  
  
"I have to go, it's late." Draco quietly but quickly made his way to the door and was halfway there before he was stopped.  
  
"Draco." Snape noticed how quickly the young Slytherin was moving to get away from him and he stood from his chair and made to go after him , he couldn't help but wonder what was wrong. "I'd like to talk."  
  
The blond had stopped halfway to the door, and turned around as if waiting for more to follow.  
  
"About the Slytherins, and about what happened this summer?" Snape was careful not to say anything to brash as he noticed Malfoy's posture slip into that of a hardened statue, and his shield forced on as though he were bracing for the worst.  
  
"Why this question?" Draco asked, not wanting to be here in Professor Snape's office any longer and wanting to leave so that he could finish his planning. He kept his calm as he spoke though, making it seem as though he expected this and was willing to answer it.  
  
The professor chose to use the cards of sincerity, confidence, friendship and fatherhood when speaking to Draco. "Because you've changed since then. You used to trust me, why not anymore? You can tell me, Draco, I'm your teacher, but also a Slytherin." Snape spoke with a sincerity he rarely ever showed to anyone, anyone except people he really felt he knew and trusted.  
  
"A Slytherin?" Draco half spit the words out of his mouth. "Are you sure?" He sneered one of his more devious smirks, this was one of the moments he'd been waiting for. The moment when his Professor would show a weakness so that he could tear him apart verbally.  
  
Severus was flabbergasted. "Of course I'm sure! What's gotten into you?!" Snape was completely caught off guard, and it showed. He dropped his shield only for a moment to let his feeling of hurt astonishment show on his face and posture.  
  
"No, I don't think so. You act more like a Gryffindor." Draco had taken a few more steps towards the Professor, waiting to continue his coming onslaught of words.  
  
"Wha?" Snape was clearly flabbergasted. He was not expecting this sort of response from someone he thought he knew, let alone one of his favourite students.  
  
"You sold your life and soul to a Gryffindor; you lied to your housemates and I. No, I don't think you're a Slytherin, for if you were, you'd never have lied to me." Draco had stressed the last word, knowing that he was making this to personal and was letting his shield fall while he spoke, he didn't want to leave himself exposed to a verbal attack, but this conversation hurt more than it should have.  
  
"You. You know?" Snape replied, though it seemed he was saying it in disbelief. He was so careful about keeping his secrets, how had the younger Slytherin know...  
  
"Yes, I know you're a spy for Dumbledore, but I don't really care, that, is not the problem." Draco continued to walk towards Snape, but instead of actually getting near him, Draco turned his walk into a pace around the room.  
  
"If you knew, why did you act as if you didn't?" Snape said, clearly wondering why this conversation hurt him so much.  
  
"To verify myself if you were ready to lie, to me." Draco had again stressed the last part of his conversation, making it clear to the Professor that it was him who had made the wrong in his decision.  
  
"." A look of lost bewilderment showed clearly on Snape's face.  
  
"You were. And still are." Draco said sneering, at his confused Professor.  
  
"No, Draco, you're mistaken ." Snape said, quickly trying to regain his composure  
  
The Slytherin cut him short, "I am not. If it had been last year, I would only have been hurt, but times have changed, and I have to consider it treason. I hoped you would understand by yourself but you didn't, and failed me. You're no Slytherin, at least not to me anymore," Draco said as he turned on his heel and walked away.  
  
Alone, Severus fell on his knees, trembling.  
  
What he suspected was finally truth: the Clan had been reformed and he was excluded.  
  
* * * * * *  
  
Wednesday, October 14th  
  
Severus had passed the night at his desk, wondering what to do. What Draco had accused him of was correct. By lying to them, and Draco, he had betrayed them, and the entire Clan. By associating himself with Dumbledore and being a member of the Order of the Phoenix, he had ceased being a Slytherin and had become a Gryffindor.  
  
The new password the Slytherins had chosen was clear enough about what they thought of him. Cauda Draconis. In geomancy, it meant destruction and treason.  
  
During Draco's sixth year, he'd been aware of the Slytherins' distress. When the Gryffindors were united around the symbol that was Harry Potter, and protected by the Order; Draco's influence had revealed itself as not to be enough to maintain order in the house. The young Slytherins were pressed by their parents into following their paths, with no other choice than that of obedience. Severus knew that; till his father's death, he too had been forced into a particular way of life. But between his potion classes and spying for Dumbledore, he hadn't found the time to help them. Each Slytherin was afraid of being spied on by roommates, who would in turn report their behaviour to the dark lord, and get them punished. Since he wasn't there, nobody had searched to understand what was the reason of the bags under the eyes of each Slytherin child, assuming they worked as spies for Voldemort or learned dark magic in secret. Nobody had sought out who screamed and cried in the dungeons each night. The dormitories had become fields of nightmares to make Potter's premonitory dreams blanch of horror.  
  
Outside, the war was going on, and deaths were accumulating. To each acquaintance, which died, killed by death eaters, the Gryffindors made the Slytherins painfully regret their parents' actions. Black eyes and bleeding noses were common. The worst, surely, was that when attacked by Gryffindors, and forced to protect themselves, the Slytherins were also punished. The few exceptions concerned students found unconscious, such as Draco after the Yule Holidays.  
  
Severus still hadn't established the verity on this story. Charlie Weasley had been declared as dead, killed by death eaters. However, Severus was certain no one in the dark lord's ranks had spoken about Weasley's death. They would have been too happy about it, but no mention had ever been made of it. What happened to the young man? Had he been secretly killed? Or rather was he still alive...  
  
Dumbledore had required his presence at the reunion of the Order of the Phoenix, in the evening. What was he going to say then? To confess the Snake's Clan was reunited, or to lie, one more time?  
  
An opening door and the entrance of students interrupted his thoughts. It was already the time for his class. It was his Seventh year Gryffindor- Slytherin class. How were they going to act vis-à-vis to him?  
  
But the students didn't say anything, ignoring him as always since the beginning of the year, behaving with their Head of house as with any other professor. That hurt. Deeply. During the time that lasted the class, Severus felt both empty and heavy. He didn't care about what he was teaching, his voice repeating without intonation a lesson he remembered preparing some time ago.  
  
As he finished writing the instructions for an assignment on the cupboard and turned back to his desk, sitting; he saw Draco smiling to him. An intelligent smile, the one of a child scheming a nasty trick. He spent the last hour searching for what the boy had in mind, and finally found it. Collecting the students' essays, he noticed on Malfoy's desk a small vial, as the one Severus had given to him the previous day, containing some of the potion. He then perceived the look Ron Weasley was sending Draco. The Gryffindor had understood his Slytherin classmate was plotting something, and that this something had to do with the vial. He looked determined to discover what the potion served to.  
  
Smiling at the devilish intelligence of his best student, using the others curiosity to satisfy his research, Severus finished collecting the compositions and went back to his desk. Should he let Weasley steal the vial to test the potion, or order Malfoy to give him this vial that lied on his worktable? Maybe it was time for him to be a little more Slytherinish.  
  
As students went out the classroom, Potter stayed besides Snape. Preferring not wanting to know why, and Weasley observing carefully Malfoy, Severus called the blond to his desk.  
  
"Yes, sir?" Draco asked innocently, as if nothing was out or place.  
  
"Do you know it is forbidden to make human tests?" Severus asked, his face impassable.  
  
"Human tests? Why would I want to make human tests, sir?" The Slytherin asked with an innocent grin.  
  
"Don't make a fool of me child, I perfectly know what you're planning." Severus was loosing his patience, he hated dancing around the obvious.  
  
"Oh, really? Are you going to denounce me?" Draco replicated, pursing his lips.  
  
"Weasley is gone, you may join your housemates." Severus had noticed that the vile was now missing from Draco's desk and looked back to his favourite student. Maybe now he would be able to show Draco that he still cared for him.  
  
Smiling broadly, Draco went away, noticing as he walked by his desk and left the vial had disappeared.  
  
'If he's willing to use the weasel as a test, then, maybe he's still recoverable.' Draco thought to himself, smiling an evil grin as he left the classroom.  
  
* * * *  
  
Gryffindors bedroom  
  
"Ron, what are you doing?" Harry asked his friend, unsure of what his friend of 6 years was smiling about.  
  
Ron, who had just hide the vial in his robes at the door's noise, showed it to Harry.  
  
"What is it?" Harry asked, eyeing the contents of the vial.  
  
"I don't know. I stole it from Malfoy." Ron said with a triumphant grin on his face.  
  
"What?" Harry felt morally inept, "but Ron, what if it's important? You can't steal other's things like that!"  
  
"Oh, stop protecting him," the redhead said rolling his eyes, "It's just a potion."  
  
"Yes, but ." Harry wanted to say that he didn't want anything to do with this, and that he should give the vial back to Malfoy.  
  
"Okay okay, I'll give it back, but first . I want to know what it is. Will you help me?" Ron was examining the contents of what lay inside the vial, tempted to drink it right there to find out what it did, and to deprive Malfoy the satisfaction of ever seeing it again.  
  
Reluctant at first, but soon Harry was curious about the potion as well and accepted.  
  
"You spend a lot of time with Malfoy, was he preparing a potion?" Ron looked at his friend, angrily, and speculatively at the same time. He was making sure that Harry wasn't aware of what lay inside the potion as he didn't want to fall into a trap that either Malfoy, or his best friend would have formulated together.  
  
"No, I don't think so." Harry shook his head, clearly showing that he had no idea what so ever lay in the vial.  
  
"It must be important though, 'cause he kept it in sight on his potion table." Ron made to open the top and inhaled a bit of the scent.  
  
"Ah? I didn't notice." Harry blushed slightly and looked away from his friend. He couldn't tell Ron the real reasons why he was spending a lot of time with the blond Slytherin.  
  
"It could have been a pink hippogriff and you wouldn't have seen it," Ron said looking up from his examinations, ribbing Harry with his free hand in mock teasing.  
  
"Ron!" Harry was furiously blushing. It was true that he was so occupied at watching Draco that the world around them was hardly noticeable to him.  
  
"Anyway. I wonder what would happen if I take it." Ron was apprehensive, but ready to ingest the potion, looking as though he were bracing himself for the worst.  
  
"You're mad! Maybe it's a transfiguration potion and you'll change into a rat, or a niffler. Or if it's a poison, you'll be endangered." Harry was thinking a million horrible thoughts all at once, knowing that he wasn't the best at handling morally sound decisions.  
  
"Then you'll call Hermione for help," Ron said with a hope of acknowledgement towards Harry.  
  
" I will." Harry only nodded with his reply, why didn't he think to ask for Hermione's help with this. She was a much better decisions maker than he was.  
  
Ron gulped the potion in one swig. Nothing happened.  
  
"So?" Harry asked, checking his friends' body as if trying to determine if something were horribly wrong with him.  
  
"I don't know. I feel something in my stomach, but that's all." Ron looked slightly relieved that he hadn't blown up, or started throwing up anything. He shuddered at the thought of throwing up, especially when the image of him throwing up slugs in his second year because a curse had backfired on him came back to his mind.  
  
"It might be a medicine," Harry thoughtfully added.  
  
"Yeah, maybe," Ron said looking clearly disappointed that nothing surreal immediately happened.  
  
The vial Ron was holding fell on the floor.  
  
"Fabulous," Ron said finally as realization dawned on him.  
  
"It traversed your hand!" Harry was shocked at the sound of glass being shattered on the floor.  
  
"An Incorporeal potion, that's great! I never though the git would ever be able to make a potion like this!"  
  
"Stop calling him a git, Ron!" Harry glowered, annoyed that his friend couldn't stop insulting his love.  
  
"Yeah, yeah," Ron made to go over to a wall to try out the newfound abilities made by the potion, Ron tested the ability with a finger first, then his whole hand and finally his whole body, "ah! Look! I can go through the wall!" As he said it, Ron slowly disappeared through a tapestry, whereas a picture grumbled at 'how there wasn't courtesy anymore', then reappeared again through another part of the wall.  
  
"Come on Harry, I have a good idea of what I'm going to do with this little talent of mine." Ron's face flashed with a smile as he spoke and led Harry on.  
  
They were half through the way to the dungeons when Harry recognized their aim.  
  
"Ron, why are you always causing them problems?" Harry was annoyed that his friend couldn't leave his other acquaintances alone.  
  
The redhead turned toward his friend, suddenly realizing that he had been missing something for days. "And you, are always protecting them. Or rather protecting Malfoy," Ron whispered the last part because he didn't want Harry to know how he truly felt about the situation between the two of them.  
  
Harry looked guiltily at the floor, but still his ears were turning red.  
  
"I don't blame you. You act as though your holding a secret, when you're ready, come and tell me." Ron regretted his previous words, but maintained his attempt at genuine sincerity.  
  
"Yes," Harry looked thoughtfully towards the other boy ,"thanks, Ron."  
  
"Alright then." Ron had meant to give his friend a pat on the back but his hand only passed through the other boy.  
  
They were now in front of the Slytherin's entrance, "Now, let's play some the fun. You'll see their faces when they'll run out of there, screaming their lungs out of fear."  
  
Ron positioned his arms as the ones of a zombie and grinned mischievously. His hands penetrated the wall slowly and he suddenly stopped.  
  
"What?" Harry asked, unsure of why Ron had stopped moving.  
  
Ron stared at him, a surprised look on his face that showed incomprehension, "I can't move."  
  
"What?" This time, Harry had almost shouted.  
  
"I can't move," repeated Ron, "my hands are stuck in the wall."  
  
Harry extended his hand toward his friend and touched him.  
  
"The potion's effects have ceased," Harry said matter-of-factly.  
  
Ron's jaw dropped, "Oh shit."  
  
At that precise time, the portrait door opened, leaving way to a broadly smiling Draco, who was putting back in his pocket, a small chronometer.  
  
"What are you two are doing here? And in this strange position?"  
  
"Malfoy! You fucking bastard! You planned this!" Ron was pissed and his anger showed through the red that flushed his face and ears as he spoke.  
  
Draco grinned even more if it was possible, "Not exactly; but when I saw the vial had disappeared, I presumed you were going to use it."  
  
He turned towards Harry, mimicking Professor McGonagall, "Mr. Potter, I'm really disappointed in you. I thought you were better than. Oh! Hello professor!" Draco turned as he heard the familiar footsteps of women's heeled shoes behind him.  
  
"Hello, Mr. Malfoy. Would you tell me what is happening here?" Professor McGonagall was frowning at Ron while she spoke; she turned to look at the two of her House students, waiting for one to speak. But it was Malfoy who answered.  
  
"I don't know, professor. I just came out and found him like this," Draco told the truth, halfly.  
  
Ron's eyes were sending him daggers.  
  
"If you don't mind, professor, I have to go and eat lunch," Draco said staring down the Professor, who acknowledged he could go. With that Draco turned and walked away.  
  
Harry couldn't help but smile secretly. It seemed that Ron had fallen into a trap. Not a hating and resentful one, but an amusing one. Ron vaguely tried to explain what had happened to him, but failed when Snape arrived and asked the Gryffindor where he had found the potion. Per chance, Harry escaped the interrogation as the Headmaster too showed up and sent the two students away, after having liberated Ron from the wall.  
  
Dumbledore walked back in his office, followed closely by Snape, who was fuming that he couldn't take points from Ron.  
  
"Severus, I asked you to watch this potion closely." Dumbledore's voice was dark, showing out slight anger and high disappointment.  
  
"As I did," Severus said to the Headmaster, clearly regretting in his mind that he had been caught using Weasley as a testing subject.  
  
"Not enough, it seems. What if young Mr. Weasley had been stunk wholly in the wall? He would have died, Severus!" Dumbledore was trying very hard to control his temper and it showed, which was surprising to Severus, as well as to Dumbledore himself.  
  
The professor was going to surrender unflinchingly to the reproaches, as he didn't have much of a choice, but remembered his conversation, not a day sooner. Had Dumbledore cared when Weasley had almost killed Draco, one year ago? Had he tried to stop him? No.  
  
"But he didn't," Snape said cold heartedly surprising even himself, "Maybe he will learn not to steal his schoolmates' belongings."  
  
"That is not the problem Severus! I trusted you with the potion! You failed me in your responsibilities." Dumbledore; who usually kept calm during even the direst of consequences had lost it. His anger towards Severus was showing, and Dumbledore did nothing to stop it.  
  
Severus stopped in shock. That was nearly the same thing Draco had told him. Nearly. The crucial difference resided in that Draco had considered it as treason, a treason that had hurt him.  
  
'If it had been last year, I would only have been hurt, but times have changed, and I have to consider it treason.'.  
  
Did Severus have a life here where he had no place for feelings? Here where he was considered as a pawn in the fight against Voldemort? Certainly not.  
  
"No, I did not fail!" Snape screamed, bellowing in a low growl.  
  
What surprised Dumbledore only more was the firmness in Severus's voice.  
  
"On the contrary, I succeeded. I betrayed them and I know I'll have to pay, but I don't care. I'm not a part of the Order of the Phoenix anymore. I'm going back where I belong." Snape said scowling and shooting nothing but the most contempt look of loathing for the Headmaster. He was tired of being pushed around by Dumbledore, ashamed that he hurt the whole of his House, and more importantly, extremely pissed that while he thought he was doing good by bringing down Voldemort by helping the Order of the Phoenix; he thought he was a valuable member. Now he found that his worst fears were correct, he was a pawn and Dumbledore was just using him to get what he failed to do so many years ago.  
  
And to Dumbledore's disbelief, he walked away.  
  
* * * * * *  
  
Friday, October 16th  
  
After a hard day of school it was Harry's custom that he made his way toward the dungeons, searching for pleasant company for the evening. Since he was a frequent visitor, he was communicated the password. He usually would enter the common room and sit down at Draco's worktable. They ordinarily would work on their lessons until diner and chat a little, or rather, Harry would talk and Draco attentively listen to him. But today, the second Harry passed the portrait he merely caught the sight, through a window, of Draco flying away in the night, then was dragged in forcefully by Zabini and pushed hard against a wall, his hands tied by a binding charm.  
  
"What are you doing? Release me!" Harry yelled as he tried without success to free his hands from the spell.  
  
"I don't think you're in a position to give me orders, Potter!" Zabini said, emphasizing Harry's last name to show that he had no power over the Slytherins in their domain.  
  
"What's going on? And where did Draco go?" Harry stopped trying to free himself, realizing that he couldn't undue the binding spell cast on him unless he could get to his wand, which was hidden underneath and inside his robes.  
  
"Draco went to make up with what he thinks are his errors!" Zabini muttered angrily, knowing that Harry had been the one to cause Draco's absence.  
  
"What errors?" Harry looked concerned and extremely upset, "If you don't tell me what happened, how can I understand?"  
  
"Draco didn't bother with you knowing about Pritchard," Zabini admitted to the bound boy. "He trusted you," at this Zabini made a face to show his distaste in Harry, "and as a good little Gryffindor, you ran and reported it to the old fool of a Headmaster!" Zabini walked to a chair and made to sit, not taking either of his eyes off the other boy.  
  
". How do you know that?" Harry asked, unable to fathom how this was apparently a vary bad thing to have done.  
  
"Because he is spied! Because Graham was taken away from Hogwarts two days sooner that what we anticipated! And because now, Draco is putting his life in danger for he thinks he failed us and the Clan by trusting someone who doesn't deserve it!" Zabini said, making it clear that he didn't trust Potter for anything in the world.  
  
"In ... in danger?" Harry was beginning to understand what Zabini was saying, horrified.  
  
"Yes. Now, pray with us that he'll come back alive or I swear," Zabini looked solemnly at his captive and bowed slightly to emphasize his point, "I'll kill you." Zabini said finally sitting in a chair next to Draco's desk.  
  
Harry was having difficulties breathing. He had thought that Dumbledore would have helped them, he had thought Draco would be happy; but all he'd managed to do was put his love in a mortal danger. Tied up in a corner of the room, his wand hidden away from him, he did what the Slytherin had advised: he prayed. He prayed with his soul, his heart, and with his tears all night long.  
  
* * * * *  
  
Saturday, October 17th  
  
Sunrise came. Zabini, who hadn't had much more sleep than Harry, finally released his prisoner.  
  
At the painted door, his eyes red of the tears and the lack of sleep, Harry spoke his voice one last time, "Is there anything I can do?"  
  
"No." Zabini seemed to think for a moment "When Draco began to protect others, he forgot how to protect himself. That's why I don't want to see you again near any of the Slytherins, least of all him." His words word finite and didn't leave a trace of uncertainty in them.  
  
Harry left felling pain and grief.  
  
'What have I done?'  
  
As Harry passed the Gryffindor's portrait door, he expected his friends to all be asleep, but Ron was waiting from him, concern submerging his face. When the redhead saw the tear-ravaged eyes of his best friend, he immediately brought him to the couch, where the Gryffindor collapsed, trying to calm down. For the first time in months, Harry seemed willing to talk to him.  
  
"Ron, I've fallen in love with someone who hates me," Harry said as the waves of tears poured down again.  
  
"Ah ... That's a problem." Ron didn't know exactly how to comfort his friend in his current state as well as with his current problem, knowing who it was. He surely wasn't waiting for a confession of this sort. ". Please, tell me you're not in love with Parkinson," Ron asked trying to make the situation seem lighter and play off his ignorance as well, but it had the opposite effect and it showed in Harry's expression. Though the question was stupid, as he knows Harry was gay this had the effect to stop his tears.  
  
"Ron, Parkinson is with Zabini." Harry said blandly, wiping his tears with his sleeve from his robes.  
  
"Err. Maybe. Okay then, who is he?" Ron asked, waiting for the deathblow.  
  
Harry flushed as he lowered his head.  
  
Ron silently understood what Harry was feeling. The desire to tell his secret, but afraid of what would come of it's revelation. His friend was in the same state during the beginning of their fifth year: all remorse. And Ron felt remorse pounding in his own heart, for not having been able to see it sooner. He had to redeem himself and support his friend.  
  
"Since you said he hates you, he must not be a Gryffindor. In last news, Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws hadn't been holding any grudges against you, so I assume he's a Slytherin. As I don't see much of attractive persons in this house..." He paused for a moment, not expecting that he'd ever be in this situation with his friend. "Harry, are you in love with Malfoy?"  
  
Tears fell on Harry's cheeks as he whispered and nodded.  
  
"Hum. Malfoy." Ron tried to play the card of ignorance, and it seemed to be working to his advantage quite well.  
  
"Ron, I did something horrible. I'm horrible, and I was stupid to think he would help. Why didn't I trust Draco? And now, he won't ever want to see me again. I'm such a fool," Harry abruptly rambled, surprising himself.  
  
Ron thought for a while and finally went on, "Last year, Professor Dumbledore lectured me. My mother lectured me. Hermione lectured me, and that was the hardest. I don't understand why you're all forgiving Malfoy when he may be a death eater."  
  
As Harry was going to retort, Ron stopped him, "I know that he's keeping you out a lot this year. I also know that since last year, Hermione and I spend a lot less time with you than we used to. I thought you were going to finally find happiness with Ginny or Cho. I'm sorry it didn't work out well." Ron's face and words were truthful. "Then I thought you might find some nice guy but, once again I was wrong. I'm not sure that falling for Malfoy is a good idea. No, in fact, I know it isn't, but I'm not going to lecture you on this, it's useless. If you love him, then I'll accept your choice. You can talk to him tomorrow, and if he doesn't want to speak to you again, whatever fault you said you did, I swear I'm going to punch his face, however angelic it is."  
  
Ron coddled Harry in a warm hug, one that friends as close as they, can get away with and not worry about the stares and whispers from other people.  
  
A faint of smile appeared on Harry's lips.  
  
"And now, you sleep! I don't know how much you slept last night but it's certainly wasn't a lot," Ron mused as he tousled Harry's hair.  
  
The redhead waited till his friend was profoundly asleep in his bed to silently find his way back in the common room, where Hermione was sitting, probably aware of what had been going on. Ron fell on the couch and stared at the fire.  
  
"I've never seen him so ... fragile." Ron looked awestricken.  
  
"That's love for you, the most powerful of all magic's. It can protect, as did Harry's mother's, and it can destroy. I'll go and try to talk to Malfoy." Hermione looked amazed at Ron. She was surprised at his maturity and how well he was taking the news.  
  
"I'll go with you. I still have to punch him for the potion." Ron bounced up, grinning from ear to ear at the prospect of maiming Malfoy, whether or not he was Harry's lover, he still wanted to get back at him for the whole potion ordeal.  
  
"Ron you stole the potion, not him. It's you who's at fault here." Maybe Hermione was to quick to jump to conclusions about Ron's maturity.  
  
"But he knew I was going to steal it. He set me up." Ron was half pretending to be serious.  
  
"And you fell into it," Hermione said, dumbfounded as to how anyone could have seen that what Draco did was a trap.  
  
"I know, but just the same," Ron had a sudden serious look on his face. "I can't bear to see Harry like this. He's so sad, and all because of this git."  
  
"You don't know what happened, Ron," Hermione interjected to her friend, who always seemed to jump to conclusions without looking at all the facts.  
  
"How do you know that?" Ron stopped and looked to Hermione curiously.  
  
"I was listening at the door," Hermione said, making her way to the portrait hole to leave.  
  
Ron gasped but abandoned. Why would he care? If it could help Harry.  
  
"We'll see Malfoy at lunch and then, we'll know."  
  
The two agreed, almost consecutively  
  
But Draco didn't show up. He had also missed diner. He missed breakfast and lunch again on Sunday. At each meal, Harry's anxiety was growing worse. He didn't eat anymore and only starred at the place where the Slytherin usually sat.  
  
When Draco finally did come back, his anxiety didn't ebb or diminish. The blond had black bags under his eyes, as if he hadn't seen any sleep for months. He seemed to be in pain when he walked, however slowly it was; but never accepted the arm Zabini was holding to him. Draco didn't sit with his back towards Harry, but still whenever the dark-haired student reached Draco's eyes, it suddenly and hurtfully appeared to him that the Slytherin acted as not being able to see more than one or two meters away.  
  
Harry was unaware of the whisperings that were growing at the Gryffindor table, when they too had noticed Malfoy's state. He briefly noticed Professor Snape going to the table and handing a small vial to Draco, but Zabini's eyes shut up every reflection he was going to have. If looks could kill, Harry would have suffered the worst of deaths. His icy glare pierced till Harry's heart hurt like dark thunder, showing pure hatred towards the Gryffindor. Harry stood up and fled from the Great Hall.  
  
His going hadn't passed unnoticed, and during the following days, Harry was the recipient of students' curiosity. He carefully avoided most of them, spending most of his time alone in his bed. Visions of Draco haunted him, and came back in his mind the visage of the dying shadow of the blond. Draco's health was having highs and lows. Harry had hoped to see the Slytherin during potions, but the blond had been absent. A week later he seemed better, broadly speaking. There existed times when he suddenly froze in the middle of a corridor, fell on the floor and writhed in convulsions. His fellow Slytherins, obeying Malfoy's orders never took him to the infirmary, but handed his unconscious body to Professor Snape. Harry would have sold a year of his life to know what happened beyond his fateful door. He kept himself from spying, knowing that if Draco ever learned of it, it would be a disaster for their relationship. Whatever was left of their relationship anyway, unfortunately in his heart of hearts, Harry sincerely thought all he ever had had was over.  
  
* * * * * * * *  
  
Tuesday, October 27th  
  
Potions classroom  
  
"How are you Draco?" Professor Snape asked his student, unsure of what to expect from Draco this visit.  
  
"Fine, thank you for your concern, Professor," Draco nodded curtly to the older man.  
  
"No rejection or secondary effects of the potion?" Snape asked, scribbling notes in a medium sized black book.  
  
"None of importance, but Blaise noticed a change." Draco only smirked when he looked to his teacher as he spoke.  
  
"Which is?" Snape had stopped what he was doing and looked over to Draco concerned as to why he was smiling.  
  
"Aggressiveness and irritability," Draco finished, dropping himself into a seat in Snape's office.  
  
"Hum," Snape pondered how to phrase his sentence properly before starting "you have to be prudent, I don't like this. You normally would have been drained by the potion and spells, and you were, but only for a day. This is powerful dark magic and I'm afraid you're not reacting properly to it." Concern spread over Snape's face.  
  
"But still, I don't feel in bad shape. On the contrary, I'm in better form that I've ever been." Draco emphasized his point by jumping out of his seat and pretended to box with his shadow.  
  
"Physically, yes. Be careful when ."  
  
He was interrupted by a knocking noise.  
  
"Enter," invited Snape, thought not happy he was cut off mid sentence.  
  
It was Terry Boot. He announced that Dumbledore wanted to see Draco.  
  
In the headmaster's office, Professor Dumbledore and Malfoy were facing each other, none of them uttering a word during long minutes, till the older man finally raised his voice.  
  
"You must already know that our world is at a decisive turning point. Decisions that will be made in these days will be taken forever, with no chance of turning back," Dumbledore stated very calmly.  
  
Draco silently nodded, beginning to understand where the headmaster wanted to go with this conversation.  
  
"You'll have to choose where your loyalties belong," Dumbledore finished.  
  
"My choice has been made for some time yet," Draco said with a slight laugh, not breaking eye contact with the older man.  
  
"Oh," Dumbledore paused, apparent he was waiting for just the right opportunity to finish his thought "may I know?"  
  
"If you want me to say 'I am a death eater, fanatic of Voldemort and I'm plotting ways to destroy Hogwarts'." He slowly pulled up his robes and shirts' sleeves, showing bare arms, "then you're totally wrong."  
  
Dumbledore coughed, "I didn't accuse you of anything." Slightly relieved to not see the mark on the younger man.  
  
"Of course." Draco only sneered at the lie that was apparent in Dumbledore's breathing.  
  
"No, I called you to talk about other things." Dumbledore regained his composure, knowing that he would have to make a decision on Draco's fate at the school, and that of his students as well.  
  
"Concerning a certain potion I presume," Draco was becoming quite angered about the whole going round in circle. "So, what about the potion?"  
  
"If the Minister of Magic ever found out, by a way or another, who really stole the vaults' contents, you'll be in high danger," Dumbledore said, knowing that even he would not be able to protect Draco from the Minister of Magic once he found out what had happened to such a powerful potion, that in the wrong hands could be devastating to the whole world.  
  
Draco smirked letting his shield drop a little, taking it as a personal attack. "First of all, you have no evidence of it, and second," his smile broadened, "you'll have to reveal what was in the vault, and I'm sure that then, you'd be in high danger, dear Headmaster. How will you explain to the Minister that you, the said most powerful light wizard in this world, knows about the most dark potion that was ever made? Know your enemy, it will help you to defeat him, maybe? People don't trust that crap anymore."  
  
As they were getting into political opinions, Dumbledore preferred to drop the subject, "You're powerful and clever; you would make a wonderful Auror, of this I'm sure."  
  
"Or a very dangerous Death Eater. Don't you think its hypocritical of you to make me a proposition of such a sort?" Draco was barely able to contain his laughter at the statement just presented to him by the Headmaster, surely he was insane.  
  
"Hypocritical? No, I don't think so, I'm just trying to make you accept a fair deal," Dumbledore threatened cautiously  
  
"I don't recognize any deal here. And I don't think you'd be able to act fairly with me even if you wanted to," Draco spat, ready to end this conversation.  
  
"Why would you think that?" Dumbledore asked calmly, keeping his nerves in control at the insult.  
  
"When last year Weasley beat the shit out of me, you gave him four months of detention, I agree with that decision, but did you take any house points from Gryffindor? No, not the slightest bit, and you're perfectly aware that there are all that count to us. So don't make me a speech about what's fair or not, I'm up to all your tricks." Draco was a bit hysterical at his statement and he cursed himself for letting it show.  
  
"Why do you hate me so much, Draco?" Dumbledore asked. He was feeling hurt and it was starting to show, he had only ever tried to do what he thought fair, and now that was being called into question. His moral code was being abused and it hurt him severly.  
  
"I simply hate people who hate me. During my first five years, I assumed it was favouritism for Gryffindors, as you had been one yourself; but then I met up with someone that made me realize how much I was wrong. Of course, you prefer Gryffindors, but you hate Slytherins above all else. You hate them because they represent the utter limit of your possibilities." Draco had since gained control over himself and his shield was back in place, he was ready to strike the Headmaster with words that had poison that was strong enough to cause pain to anyone who laid witness to them.  
  
"Really?" Dumbledore asked, trying not to sound so surprised about the grief in the voice of a seventeen years old boy, Harry was the only exception to that rule, and for that he was sorry ...  
  
"Yes. The day Riddle turned into Voldemort, you lost. You hadn't been able to save him from himself as you could have and so, are partly responsible for all his crimes. And now, you hate me but for other reasons. Though I suppose you mostly hate me because Harry chose me over you." Draco's words oozed poison and even he was beginning to feel the effects from it, he made to leave.  
  
"I would not be so sure of this, if I were you," Dumbledore said, trying to get the last word in and have the younger man contemplate what he was saying.  
  
"What? That he chose me?" Draco turned to face the Headmaster, "But I am. Watch him and you'll notice how much he regrets his speaking to you. He's seen with his own eyes that you're not infallible and he doesn't trust you anymore. Zabini scared him, but I can have him back whenever I want. You've lost him to me." Draco smirked his trademark grin, knowing that Dumbledore was at a loss of words, Draco turned and left the Headmasters office.  
  
End of the chapter 7. 


	8. Chapter 8: Ressurrection

Thanks to Angel for beta-ing this story, I owe you so much. Thanks too to all who reviewed, I love you.

**Chapter 8: resurrection  
**  
**Tuesday, October 27th  
**  
As the office door closed behind Draco's back, a talented witch came out from the shadows.

" ... The boy is so vain and disrespectful. He ought to be expelled!"

She couldn't stop her voice from sounding bitter.

"If we ever could before Minerva, we wouldn't anymore ..." Dumbledore signed heavily as Draco's vile and bitter words had found their way into the Headmasters thoughts.

"I don't understand Albus, his father wouldn't take the risk of going to law, less more engaging political conflict, in a situation like the one he's in!" Professor McGonagall spoke with a rage of detest of what the young Slytherin had said.

"We are not talking about Lucius Malfoy, Minerva, nor justice; but about the school. If young Malfoy is expelled, we'll have to face a riot among the Slytherins, and Harry's reaction is not something I would like to assist in."

"You mean that this boastful child spoke with verity?!!" Professor McGonagall looked upon Albus with a realization of shock and surprise.

"I am afraid the Snake has won this battle, Minerva ..."Dumbledore thought heavily, taking his half-moon spectacles off and held his temples to try and help calm the intense thoughts the were now plaguing his mind. The Headmaster sighed, then as in resolution, silently got up and served the both of them some tea.

As they sat around the desk, Professor McGonagall's own thoughts were wandering around her mind, inside the past abysses. Professor Dumbledore had used the 'Snake' word. He hadn't been talking about a common snake, but about the Snake. Could it be real? The Snake's Clan, come back to life? The Snake's Clan was a legend, as much as the Order of the Phoenix was. The Order regrouped brave people, eager to take You-know-who down, to make the Death Eaters' crimes stop, they were associated to fulfill these dreams. The Snake's Clan however, wasn't an organization, nor was it a group; it was a family, it was a government, it was a world. Created by Salazar Slytherin long ago, the Snake's Clan had united during centuries of all Slytherins that came into being. No one knew how they lived or how they ruled their world, but they all were aware of its existence. It was a secret kept over time. The Headmaster had told her, one day long ago, how Tom Marvolo Riddle had resurrected the Clan, while he was at Hogwarts. No one had ever noticed it, not even him, and only years later, when Tom Riddle had become Voldemort and revealed himself as the Slytherin's Heir, that Professor Dumbledore had finally understood what really had taken place in the castle. The Slytherins' attitude had subtly changed, from harsh to more secretive. They were silently becoming subjects of the Slytherin sovereign. What she couldn't make out though, was the reason of this resurrection ...

"Me neither ..." added the Headmaster as if he had read her thoughts, "but I fear there is more in it than a little child's fancy as the ones we were used to from Draco."

"Might the Malfoys be planning a campaign against Hogwarts from the inside?" Professor McGonagall asked, as thoughts in her mind reeled, trying to piece together information old and lost.

"It is a possibility Minerva," Dumbledore paused for only a moment, as if thinking to state the obvious, or avoid it entirely "the time for war has finally begun now. But for the time, may you bring me Harry? I have a difficult task to achieve."

- - - - - - - - -

It was raining.

The mourning light of the dying moon was reflecting in each tear in the sky, for angels in the heavens could feel his sorrow, all the grief in his heart that seemed would never stop aching.

His steps behind one another, people looking as though they weren't able to do anything more than walk ahead, he was crossing their shadows on his path; and, as he approached them, they reverently waved aside from his way, out of consideration for his dolor.

Harry slowly raised his sight and noticed the disappearing light coming out of his dorm's window. His roommates were likely to be happily talking, as every night. He ghostly entered the forest.

Sixth year had been hard for all of them. Murders and deaths had become commonplace to hear about, a deceased acquaintance in the morning. In these bloody times, people had slowly regrouped around him, as someone taken away by a torrent would cling tightly to trees' roots. He was their hope, the thing that kept them fighting for a better future; and the assurance that someone would save them in the end, the proximity of this living hero who was Harry Potter, had given them the strength and a will to survive.

What no one could see, however, was that this confidence they put in the young boy, was silently falling in a dead heart. Death, deaths, and death again, the boy could feel them all going away, but wasn't able to stop them. And each morning, his heart would weigh down a little more. He could see in his friends' eyes the need they had of him alive, of him powerful, of him insured ... so he kept the charade of a mask in place.

He had finally found the courage to ask Cho out, and they had stayed together for two months, until she broke. It would have been a tearful separation, if he had shared in her tears, but his heart was somewhere else. Under Ron and Hermione's kind advice, he'd asked Ginny to go to the Yule Ball with him. It had been nice, the time it lasted. But the bloody altercation between Ron and Draco had gotten rid of every straight thought that remained in him. How many times had he woken up covered in sweat, trying to get out of his dream? To kill Ron for daring to touch his silvery majesty, to bend over the bleeding gorgeous body, glorified by the red taints of his garments, and it ached more and more in his heart, to smell the scent of the blood. In a desperate attempt to stop the desire that grew in him, he leaned over the blond and kissed the blood-covered lips, licking and sucking, secretly hoping his desired would return the situation, pin him down, and make love to him, all eternity long.

It had taken him four months to forget the Slytherin blond boy. Four months that had been pure Hell. How to get rid of thoughts that tortured you, when the object of which is invading them is in your year? Whenever an Order's weekly meeting went by without his father mentioned? But he had finally succeeded.

Humorously enough, this state did not last long. At the beginning of this year, Love had rushed over him like a thunderbolt; never leaving him time to react, to think, then had abandoned him in his dolor. Was it a divine retribution for having refused the Love they had offered to him?

Destiny isn't an extern force, isolated and well defined. It forms a whole, compact and indissociable; composed of life's utter and variable characteristics. You can't resist it, because it would be like resisting the world. He had tried, and he had failed.

And now, he had nothing left, but his hero mask.

Snowed under gray thoughts, he never noticed the hungry red eyes of the creature that came towards him.

- - - - - - - -

**Wednesday, October 28th  
**  
"Ron!"

"Humm," groaned the tall redhead in his bed, "Mione?"

"Get up, quick!" Hermione shouted from the other end of the room as she picked up and threw some of his garments to him.

"But wha ..." he couldn't finish his sentence as pants and a shirt fell upon his head.

"Harry has disappeared! He asked me yesterday if we could work together on our transfiguration assignment, since he doesn't go in the Slytherin's dungeons anymore, but he didn't show up and he's not there either!" she stopped for an instant, "You still aren't dressed?? Hurry up!" Hermione screamed agitated that it was taking him so long to respond to what she'd said.

As Ron quickly finished putting on his robes, they ran out of Gryffindor tower, only to bump into ...

"Headmaster! Harry's disappeared!" Hermione cried out.

"I am well aware of your despair, Miss Granger, but I assure you there's no need to worry. Harry is in the infirmary." Dumbledore said, as he spoke with a calm but unraveled certainty.

"What's happened to him?" Both students looked expectantly to their Headmaster, knowing he would, like always explain that everything was fine.

"We don't know. Poppy found him on a bed around two o'clock in the morning, but she's absolutely certain no one entered by the door or any window." Dumbledore seemed to have an air of confused thought around him, while he spoke.

His brain getting the best of her, she quickly reacted, "Apparition?"

"It appears so, yes." Dumbledore finally relented, though still trying to figure out how it could have happened.

"But you can't apparate in Hogwarts!" Ron said, having that one particular fact drilled into his head from the previous five years of his schooling.

Hermione didn't even noticed Ron's intervention, as they arrived in the infirmary.

On a sign from Professor Dumbledore, Mrs. Pomfrey gave way to them.

Harry lay on a bed, under two warm blankets, his uncovered arms bandaged from hand to shoulder. His face was tired and he let out a painful sigh that mirrored in his eyes as Hermione and Ron knelled to one side of the bed.

"Harry ... How are you?"

His answer was nothing more than a whispering, "I am not sure. There are stars in my head ... I can't feel anymore."

"It's normal Harry; you were fed a insensitive potion," averted the Headmaster.

The Gryffindor silently thanked the Medi-Witch with a nod.

"I am not the one to thank, Mr. Potter. You were brought to the infirmary in this state: drugged and bandaged." Mrs. Pomfrey stated, showing that she was clearly surprised and flabbergasted as to how he had arrived to the infirmary.

"Who then?" Harry asked in a bare whisper.

The Headmaster turned towards Ron, his sight piercing the boy's heart.

"We have our suspicions ..." The Headmaster started, though quite by accident.

All eyes were on him, waiting for him to go on.

Relenting, he continued. "Some days ago, the ghosts and paintings started reporting to me strange things, such as doors that opened alone, wind in the corridors when there wasn't any outside, or candles that burned when no one to light them. I first thought about an invisibility cloak, such as yours Harry, but it had to be something else. I had done some research and found that this 'Shadow', as I name him, is an entity. He cannot be touched, but he may be felt. When you are near him, there's a characteristic feeling of wind, ... which doesn't leave you, Harry." Dumbledore finished, waiting to see if any of what he'd said had sunken into the boy.

"You mean Harry might be Shadow?" Hermione inquired anxiously

"No, I am implying that ... Harry is his prey." Dumbledore stated simply.

A mustering answered from the bed "But he saved me ..."

"Yes, Harry, he did. There are legends that tell about dark creatures. They cherish their preys, win their trust, bind their will to them and finally, eat them alive."

"Eat ... they're cannibals?" asked Harry with hesitation.

"Yes, redoubtable ones. By the way, what did he save you from, Harry?"

"I don't know exactly. I was walking when something fell upon me, digging nails or claws in my back. I just had the time to see red eyes before I passed out." Harry said as he kept his mask in place, not adding that it was a welcome comfort to die then as to not be a tool in this war.

"How do you know it was him?" Dumbledore asked with trepidation.

"I can feel it," Harry closed his eyes, "I remember it as if it were a dream. He came near me, then the beast circled us for a time and attacked, but he stopped it ... I don't remember how, but it fell at his feet. He took me in his arms, and the rest ... it felt like flying, there was some sort of scenery around us until he laid me down on the bed." Harry said, though clearly not wanting to open his eyes, as that would mean the end of his apparently joyous thought.

"Is that all?" Dumbledore asked, though more in concern Harry was leaving something out.

"All I remember, yes." Harry said, finally opening his eyes.

"That will suffice for now. You should sleep some more Harry, you're exhausted and your mind needs rest. I will come and see you later." Dumbledore said, looking thoughtfully with a faded twinkle in his eyes. He hoped Harry hadn't noticed

As they were leaving, Hermione, eyes deep in thought, seemed to speak in a trance, "Professor, are you sure Shadow is only an entity?"

"There is no other possible explanation Miss Granger. Why do you ask?" Dumbledore seemed to be surprised by the sudden question.

"Hum?" Hermione was just as confused as the headmaster, as she had not meant to say anything aloud. She continued her thoughts, however calming the Headmasters concern "Just a question... just a question ..."

- - - - - - -

As Hermione was heading toward the dungeons, she kept thinking about Harry's behavior. The green-eyed youth had seemed out of reach, only getting out of his reverie when needed. Though he'd acted better when going to see the headmaster, he was now reverted to his old self. The one when Cedric had died, the one when Draco had rejected him. What could the headmaster have said to him? And Shadow? Who or what could he be? Of course, she had her own idea, a feeling she was going to justify immediately. This was a new problem. No one but her, it seemed, had perceived the slight blush on Harry's cheeks as he went on about his savior. Despite all that happened in his life and his quick maturing, Harry had remained a child; a little boy with a need for love. Draco had always paid a great deal of attention to the Gryffindor and was a constant force in Harry's life. Hermione understood perfectly why her friend had fallen and chosen this particular blond over a familiar sweet-hearted Gryffindor. The Slytherin's attitude left her speechless at times, what had happened exactly between Harry and Draco for the boy to be so sad and guilty? Against what Harry said, had they been more than friends? And was Shadow Draco's way for making amends on Harry's suffering? All these questions floating in her mind, she desperately needed to find answers.

"Draco Malfoy!" Hermione shouted, in a tone that to anyone else would suggest he had done something wrong to upset her.

The Slytherin turned his eyes from the class book he was working on with a second year and glanced at Hermione. He hadn't the time to ask what she was doing in the dungeon; as Head Girl, she had access to all passwords.

She grabbed him out of the common room, "We need to talk."

As they had made their way to a secluded corner in the Library, he finally raised his voice to speak, "What may I do for you?"

"Talk to me about Shadow." Hermione said, speaking with a deadly serious tone.

"Of course ... "Draco started, staring at her with a mock look of surprise "what else would I expect from the cleverest witch in centuries at Hogwarts to make but the best deductions ... how did you figure it out?"

"Logically," Hermione said very matter-of-factly, just as Draco had suspected she would. "I studied the remaining potion in the vial Ron stole from you. I couldn't make out what it was exactly, but I found enough evidences of what it did."

"The potion isn't the same, though." Draco replied in the same tone, all while shaking his head in disbelief at his misfortune.

"Maybe. In fact, I rather expected luck." Hermione half smiled as she spoke.

Draco smiled, "I fell into the trap."

"Really? Stop lying! I know perfectly well you knew I didn't know." Hermione said haughtily.

"Maybe. In fact, I wanted to talk to you." Draco said, a tinge of longing in his masked voice.

"What about?" Hermione replied inquisitively, while raising a brow in turn.

"Harry." Draco's voice was soft as he spoke.

"He is who I wanted to discuss about too."

"Let's have a nice chat, then. I have nothing to hide," the Slytherin calmly crossed his legs while falling deeply backwards into the armchair.

Hermione started with her questions, "You were the Gringotts's theft?" more accusatory in tone than questioning of the blond boy.

"Yes" Draco answered steely.

"What did you steal?" Hermione asked, as if making a mental tally of Draco's every word.

"A potion and some parchments." Draco answered, again in his same tone.

"The potion you made Ron test?" Hermione was a bit upset as she asked this, and it showed slightly as a red flair of anger shot through her eyes.

"You figured that out too?" Draco smiled widely; He didn't think that Granger, of all people no matter how smart would have been able to figure his entire plan out. "Congratulations. Yes it was, it is also the one that made me a Shadow."

"What effects does it have?"

"We don't exactly know. I didn't react the way we anticipated me to." Draco had a slight frown on his face at this remark.

"Is it dangerous?"

"I don't think so."

Hermione paused for a moment, thinking how she should phrase her next question before settling and going with, "Why did you sadden Harry?"

"I didn't mean to, I'll make it up to him." Draco wasn't expecting the question, but the answer flew from his lips as quickly as he'd been asked.

"Why did you save him?" Hermione pressed.

"Because he was going to be killed. I couldn't let him die." Draco hissed, then lowered his tone as to not cause attention to himself or the Gryffindor. He didn't want to stop talking until both were sure of the others motives and questions.

"Do you like him?" Hermione asked wonderingly, trying to see just how much of Draco's influence Harry had allowed into his life.

Draco smirked and lowered an eyebrow, "Now you're getting into personal stuff, Granger. Yes, I do."

"Do you love him?"

"Why?"

"Because he loves you, and you know it. I swear if you hurt him ..."

Her voice was dangerous. In the past years, Hermione had grown into a very beautiful and talented witch, yet no one dared to bother or cross the line with her as she had this horrible custom of cursing people that went too far. Back in their fifth year, Ron himself had paid the price by being turned into the twin of Neville's old toad, as he'd insulted Viktor one time too many.

"Why would I hurt him?" Draco queried, wondering how Granger would come to such a conclusion.

"Who knows? You have such a twisted mind ..." Hermione said this with a twinge of acid in her words, a shallow attempt to provoke the boy into revealing his true intentions towards her best friend.

Draco saw the bait, but refused to accept it. "Ah ... I don't deny it,"

As he spoke he saw the corner of Hermione's mouth rise. They were back to polite seriousness.

"So you didn't intend to send him away one week ago?" Hermione asked, with a slight bit of caution in her words.

"Oh no, when an angel comes to see you, you don't let them go." Draco spoke exactly what he was thinking at that moment.

'... You never let them go...'

"Tell me again that you won't eat Harry!" Hermione quickly added, seeing that Draco was starting to drift off into his own private thoughts.

"Hmm? ... I just projected that I'd eaten him, but if it's forbidden, poor frustrated Harry will have to cope with ..." as Hermione was turning red in both amusement and self-consciousness, he quickly added, "I won't. Are you happy? And where did that awful idea come from?" Draco spat the last words, as if only someone with a sick and cruel mind would suggest it.

"The Headmaster." Hermione stated, without hesitation.

"Of course he did ... the old fool... I'm not a cannibal; I don't eat people, besides to suck their life is so much more ..." he stopped abruptly.

"What?!!" Hermione shouted, blowing caution and their privacy to the wind.

"I was just kidding." Draco added hastily, looking around trying to see if anyone, especially Madame Pince had heard Hermione's outburst. Upon the resolve that no one had either heard them or cared, he quickly had the moment to think. 'Why would I eat him when it's so much more fun to have him as a slave?'

"Why are you wearing leather gloves?" Hermione asked, noticing them as if for the first time during their entire conversation.

"Necessity. May I do something more for you or will that be all?" Draco made to rise from his chair.

Hermione sighed as a part of this stress was relieved from her shoulders, "No, for now it will suffice. Besides, I have to go." As she was a foot away from the door, she suddenly turned back towards him,

"One more question! How do you know I won't denounce you?" Hermione asked, with raised eyebrows.

" ... Because you're unable to do so, my dear prefect." Draco said with his trademark smirk on his face as he spoke.

"Wha? ... What did you do to me?" Hermione, panicking as she spoke, unable to move.

"Only a little curse of my composition. You won't be able to say what we spoke of here to anyone, in any way, shape or form; whom I am. Goodbye, Head-Girl, t'was my pleasure discussing this with you." Draco replied, calm and collected as he left the hallway containing a very confused Gryffindor Prefect.

Hermione glared at the blond Slytherin prat in fury as he passed her and walked away. She wondered when the Slytherin could have passed through the protection spell she cast on herself every morning. Maybe he'd been lying. She quickly took a paper and her quill, but when she intented to write down the simple sentence 'Malfoy is Shadow', all she could produce was 'Malfoy is an albino'. She cursed. How did the ferret, the spoiled brat dare to come onto her like that!

Some minutes after, a shadow could be seen at the top of the dungeons, surveying the disappearing shades of the night in the sky. Some early risers in the castle could almost have bet then that they heard the silent whispering of the wind speaking, "Clever, yes ... But I am more."

- - - - - - - -

Hermione found Harry and Ron in the Great Hall, eating while playing a game of Wizard Chess. Her friend looked completely recovered, even if his face hadn't enlightened again.

"Mione!" Ron exclaimed, "Where were you?"

"Head Girl stuff" Hermione spoke monotonously, as if nothing was wrong or out of the ordinary.

Ron would have asked her more if the sight in her eyes hadn't stopped him, screaming at him 'Danger! Danger! Mad anger!' sign. He resolved to leave her alone and eat his food.

"Ron, did you learn your lesson?"

The familiar reprimanding tone echoed in Ron's head, "What lesson?" He asked.

"Transaparating potion." Was all that was spoken to him, though fury was raging behind her eyes.

He pulled a face at the realization, and noticed Harry blanching. The black- haired teenager was trembling. "We ... we have potions?" Harry looked and sounded horrified.

"Of course mate! Today's the bloody fateful day: Tuesday." Ron said, trying to sound humorous to Harry to lighten him up, the effect seemed only to darken his eyes.

Hermione put a hand on her friend's shoulder trying to console his burden.

"It will be okay, Harry. Don't worry."

"Yes ... not to worry ... not to worry ..." Harry said, taking in a deep breath and putting his mask into place for the day.

He couldn't stop shivering. What was he going to say, how was he going to act near the Slytherin? They had never talked since the Death Eater incident, and Harry feared this encounter all the more since the Headmaster's revelations the night before. The memory brought back tears into his eyes. Sirius, the father he never had, his only parental figure in his utterly miserable life, his protector of two years, was dead. Dumbledore had sent him on a mission at Gringotts, but Aurors had been there and pursued him, till convict and pursuers met Death-Eaters. The Aurors were found dead days later, and Sirius had never reappeared. The man had died alone, nobody there with him, for him, no one to even allow him his amnesty. Sirius was now part of the forgotten people of the war.

Harry quickly rose from his chair and walked away, barely noticing Hermione restraining Ron from following him. He crossed the corridors and pushed open the door of the potions classroom. There was still half an hour till the beginning of the class, and Harry wasn't prepared for the sight of a blond head, sat at the first row. He froze in his steps and stayed immobile until a voice took him back in the reality.

"Are you planning on to enter?"

Harry closed the door and made his way to his seat, each step more hesitating, and each step more painful, each step resounding harder in his chess and heart.

He did not, no, could not breathe anymore; but then, the angel turned toward him, a smile painting his lips,

"How are you, Harry?"

The Gryffindor felt all weight in him suddenly leave him, fleeing from his shoulders, and only left the desire to bury his face into the blonde's slender curve, between the neck and shoulder; to hide in him, to smell his scent, to feel his heartbeat. And the tears he'd kept hidden for weeks formed in his eyes and started to fall. Harry turned his head away but a kind hand caught and pulled him near the warm body of the Slytherin. Harry's heart was ready to burst as Draco's arms encircled his body, holding him closer than anyone ever had.

In his arms, he was in Draco's arms, it wasn't as good as he imagined, it was better, and it was heaven on earth. He felt protected, safe. He felt alive. They sat on the chair, Harry enveloped in between two protective wings, and his head on the silver shoulder, silent sobs choking his throat and two strong arms rocking his body in a gentle motion; their sweet lullaby of their story resounding around them. Harry let his happiness streak along his cheeks, his hands clinging tightly in the blonde's robes. Tender lips pressed on his forehead, and a hand on his back, pulling him deeper in the embrace.

"Why are you crying Harry?"

If Draco hadn't been whispering in his ear, Harry would never have heard it, and yet, he regretted he ever did.

"I ... I'm sorry ..." Harry choked on the last of his tears as he tried to speak.

"What reason would you have to be sorry?" Draco cooed softly in Harry's ear, stroking his hair.

"... Pritchard ..." Was all Harry could say before wrapping his arms tighter around the blond boy, not wanting him to leave him ever again.

"Oh Harry. You've no reason to be, you're not responsible; you thought you were doing the right thing." Draco looked at Harry's tear streaked face and brushed his hair away from his tear filled eyes.

"But ..." Harry spoke, weakly as he reveled in Draco's touch and the gentleness the boy showed for him in, even in his weakened pitiful state.

"It's past Harry. Everything will be better now; Graham is in security, and his father received the lesson he ought to ... are you listening? Everything's fine." Draco smiled as he looked upon the raven-haired boy, smiling down on him.

"And you?" Harry asked, looking up suddenly at his blond savior.

"Me ... I've never been better." Draco said, wiping away the tears on Harry's cheeks.

Though Harry seemed skeptical, Draco turned the raven-haired in his lap, till their eyes were facing one another. There was a strangely demonic gleam in Draco's.

"I'm in a deserted classroom, in the only company of a handsome young man with the most incredible eyes whom, for my uttermost pleasure, is laying just in my lap. Why wouldn't life be good?"

During Draco's little speech, Harry's face had turned red, but he could now feel a much more physical reaction from his body. "You ... you think so?"

"Why? Don't you find yourself handsome? I think you are."

As Draco said it, his hand on Harry's back pressed tighter, the other crawling up to his neck. Harry's breathing stopped, his heartbeat quickened in his chest, and all he could think about were lovely lips that came on him, willing him for a kiss.

He felt Draco's breathing on his slightly opened lips, and quickly ran his tongue over them. They were about to touch, barely a millimeter apart, when a door banging open echoed near them. Horrified, Harry saw the Professor Snape enter the classroom and clung to Draco more out of fear. But the blond neither moved nor acted stressed. He simply smiled at the teacher.

"Good morning Professor." Draco smiled widely at his Professor while running his fingers through his lover's hair, seeming to dare Snape into saying something wrong.

"Good morning ... Mr. Malfoy." Snape said, trying to not notice the boy his favorite student, and head of The Clan was holding onto, no, stroking as if he had ownership of the other boy.

Severus sent a glare in Harry's direction and headed towards to his desk.

"Harry, are you ready for the experimental test?" Draco asked, cooing in Harry's ear.

Harry was lost in Draco's touch and voice, "Yes, I... my cauldron! I forgot it!" He bolted upright, sounding a tad hysterical that he'd forgotten the main instrument for this class.

"Then run sweetie." Draco whispered secretly, sending shivers not only down Harry's spine, but his own as well.

Draco smiled, but one could wonder if it was at Harry's innocence, or at the deep sight the Professor in front of him let out. The time the Gryffindor was out, and the two Slytherins were facing each other.

"Perfect timing, Severus." Draco said, his attitude and demeanor returning to that of a business man.

"May I know what you're going to do with Potter?" Snape asked, somewhat indifferently.

"This is called 'seduction', Severus. You of all people should know it." Draco spat, unsure of how it wasn't obvious to the older man.

"The Malfoy Seduction ... Yes, I remember." Severus spoke, seeming to recall just what 'The Malfoy Seduction' entailed.

"By the way, have you seen my father?" Draco asked, though seeming to know the answer already.

"Not yet, I haven't found the time." Snape spoke somewhat apprehensively now.

"Then find it. The ceremony can't wait any longer, and you need him to be present. Am I clear?" Draco's voice was cold and calculated, not at all what it was a minute ago with a certain raven-haired boy in his lap.

"Yes." Snape said.

Draco raised his eyebrow, seeming to be waiting for more of a response. "Yes what?"

"Yes sir," Snape admitted reluctantly.

"I know you think I'm mad and sadistic, Severus, and I totally agree, but this is one of the little pleasures life gave me so I intend to make full use of it. I'll meet you tomorrow night in your room to discuss this later."

Students arrived and Draco sat down. The test was extremely easy, compared to the potions he was used to concocting. Regularly in the three hours, his hand had brushed Harry's arm, and each time, the sight of a flustered Gryffindor, red-faced, breath-held, and his attempts to go on with his potion undisturbed delighted Draco.

Professor Snape gave him five points for it, and it had to be the closest of a kind act from Severus to Harry Draco would ever see. Probably the Professor felt sympathy for the Gryffindor, having endured the same treatment in his own time.

- - - - - - - - - - - -

**Thursday, October 29th  
**  
Draco quietly went upstairs, heading towards the North Tower's dungeon.

'I wonder how many people would beg to kiss me now ... and the little Weasley, by Merlin, the way she looks at me, so hot and willing ... if her brother only knew.'

He'd not seen Harry in the full day, for they hadn't had their DADA class, due to the just passed full moon. Draco had remained in the dungeons, making plans for the ceremony and planning his encounter with Severus. The man had held secrets a long time for Draco's father, and the blond now had a very good idea of where Lucius went on those long nights.

_Flash-back_

Severus was waiting, watching the fire; his body craving for what he knew would soon come. The flames had become blue and Lucius Malfoy stepped out from them, his attitude radiating with power. Severus stood up off of the couch and slightly spread his legs, parting his arms from his body, as if offering himself. Lucius wore a black classical shirt, which gave him a vampire air. His eyes lightened in the dark, so handsome. His lips caressed the professor's, kissing his forehead, eyelids; his cheeks, softly biting his earlobe. Severus's lips were half-opened, his eyes closed, his body shivering; Draco, who was listening through the door couldn't help admiring this man who desperately attempted to resist his father's ascendancy. He knew Lucius fucked other men and it didn't bothered him at all since he did the same, but when one of these men appeared to be your house teacher, the play became all of a sudden so much more interesting. A groan escaped Severus's lips and he moaned.

"Lucius, please" A gasp came from Severus' lips.

His father wore a satisfied and triumphant smile, "What, Sevy? You can't take it anymore?"

"N... no... Fuck me now, please." Severus said with a hint of desperation as he spoke.

"Already? But you know, Sevy: you must pay the price, first."

Draco pricked up his ears: what could his father ask in exchange of this little ... service?

"Yes, yes... take it, I give it to you, take it, drink me, please..." Severus said in a plea.

Drink?

Lucius laughs "So good of you."

He made Severus's robes fall, slowly unbuttoned his shirt and opened it, observing the now bare shoulders of his victim; Lucius bent over him, opened his mouth, revealing a pair of growing fangs and took a bite of the offered flesh. Severus flinched at the delight of feeling of having two long fangs in him, pumping and drinking his pulsing blood. How he missed this impression of reaching heaven. His head lightly bending backwards, his moans and groans increased as Lucius pushed himself deeper in his neck, and he cried out his name when the man took a final and harder bite of him.

He was going to faint but Lucius captured his body and kissed him. "Now, you can have what you paid for."

Draco had observed the scene behind him with great interest. So his father was ... a vampire. Who would have known? Himself, of course, for the feeling of blood's need grew stronger daily in his body, but still, the view of the two men turned him on, and he couldn't help wonder how Snape would taste in his mouth. Draco silently licked his lips in the room's shadows.

His father's powers were now rising around him like ices gleam, piercing the air. He wanted to feel _this power too, he wanted to have men and women beg him for his favors, and more, beg him for taking their life away from their body._

As Lucius and Severus headed towards the bed, giving up pieces of clothes on the way there, he went away.

End of flash-back  
  
And here he was again. How could he have missed the way Snape looked at him? So deep a look, full of this longing desire, that no one could see ... no one but him. After a few spying sessions, he had discovered that his father came once a week; but for the craving teacher, it appeared not to be sufficient. Each week, Draco could observe him going crazy, and his growing desire making him even more sensitive about little things, as his best student's smile, or his legs lying parted under the potion table, just in front of Snape's desk.

But this had changed the day Draco had become the heir. Severus had stopped looking at him with desire, his looks becoming more impressed or even afraid. As the perfect heir, Draco exactly knew what Snape feared; he could do anything and everything to the man, he was the Prince.

He entered the potions master's quarters and noticed the black-haired man writing on his desk, Severus seeing him and quickly raising from his seat.

'Yes, so much fear. I'm sure the only other person who has ever been able to make your eyes glint this way is Voldemort, and maybe not even him. What a pleasure you're allowing me, Sevy...'

"What am I going to do with you Severus?" Draco asked aloud.

Feeling it was a statement and not a question, Snape didn't utter a word. He watched as Draco made his way to the bed and followed him to it as the blond made a slight move of the hand. They were now lying on the sheets, Severus's head on Draco's torso, the blonde's agile fingers in his hair.

"You'll meet my father tomorrow night, he'll be waiting for you. I'll take you to the Manor, as I have business to attend to out of the castle." Draco stated, as if citing a list of chores he had to be done.

"What?" Snape asked, very unable to hide his surprise at this sudden statement, much less position he was in.

"Some people to rescue." Draco replied off-handedly

"Sir ..."

Severus surprised himself by saying it so simply. The word came out of his mouth fluently. He was a subject of the Heir, but still, to bow in front of someone who could be his son seemed strange to him. He quickly wondered how Lucius acted in this very situation they were in. Did he kneel when seeing his son? Did he show the respect due to the Heir or considered him only his child?

"Yes, Sevy?"

The man shivered at the sound of his nickname that was given to him a long time ago by Lucius. How did Draco know of it? Did he find it himself, by some chance? Was it possible the blond could have eavesdropped one of his encounters with the vampire?

"How ..." Severus had started to ask.

"I thought you knew better of me Severus. I'm the Malfoy heir." Draco replied mockingly, still on the bed with Severus, hands in his hair.

"You're a vampire ..." Severus tensed a bit in the blonde's grip.

"I wouldn't say that, but it's right I have some ... needs. Don't worry; I'm not here for that, not now. As you are to see my father tomorrow, I'd better leave your forces to you. But, perhaps one day ..." Draco trailed off, seeing the emotions and scenarios being played out on Severus face and in his pulse.

They stayed like that for a long time. Severus wasn't sure Draco was still awake but dared not to verify it, he still couldn't go to sleep peacefully thinking and knowing about who's arms he was in. At two o'clock, he felt his arm burning. The mark, Voldemort was calling him. He moved, but Draco's hand closed around his wrist in a tight grip.

"Stay here." Draco commanded slightly, eyes closed, as if seeming to be woken from a slight slumber.

"But I have to ..." Severus half-heartedly pleaded.

"You have to nothing. Stay here." Draco said with eyes wide open, as if judging Severus' loyalties.

Snape didn't know what to do. Should he go to his Master side of stay with his Lord? His arm burned with pain enough to scream for, and he struggled in Draco's arms. The blond slowly raised the potions master's arm to his head and licked the mark. The dolor ceased, but was replaced by a feeling he couldn't immediately place. As the blond kept licking, a sensation went through his body, touching him to his utter soul, and he moaned loudly. He felt the mouth on his arm smile.

"You like this, Sevy?" Draco replied, still while running his tongue on the mans forearm where the dark mark was.

A groan answered him. His mouth went to Severus's neck and bit on the mark his father left during his previous visit. He heard a gasp from the man, felt his body trembling with need. Draco pinned the man against the bed, "Tomorrow, you'll get what you want. Now sleep." Draco commanded, as if any other action would not be tolerated.

And the black haired man did.

**End of chapter 8**


	9. Chapter 9 : Recollections

**Summary: **When long ago, Salazar created the Slytherin house and put himself on its throne, he never thought that, one day, the Snake could evolve and the crawling lord mute into the sky sovereign, the one and only Dragon. DM/HP, LM/SS, RW/HG

**Notes: **I only changed a few things. Answers to reviews will be in chap 10 that will be update soon (it's horribly long).

"bla-bla" talking

'bla-bla' thinking

_bla-bla_ flash-backs

**Friday, October the 30th **

The sun was rising above the hills of the forbidden forest. Severus Snape had been rudely woken by a nightmare, alone. Surely Draco had gone back to his room; still, he felt frustrated at the empty place in his bed. What was also frustrating was both the attraction and fear he felt for the boy; sure, Draco reminded Severus of Lucius who always had a great ascendancy on him, but the power the young man radiated these last days wasn't his usual standard: it was dominating and frightening. There was no doubt left in his mind about Draco's kingship. This night was the night he was going to bow to him, but before that, he was to see Lucius. Could his lover of twenty years ever forgive him, or had he decided to kill him?

Severus' peregrinations in the castle had brought him in front of the headmaster's office. He quickly muttered the password, went up the stairs and waited, watching the man. Dumbledore finished reading some paper at his desk, signed it, and finally acknowledged his professor.

"What may I do for you Severus?" His voice was kind and warm, but slightly uncertain. His friend's and Draco's words some days ago had shaken him. He recognised he had used Snape, but didn't mean him to get hurt and regretted his harsh outburst. The potion's master had sacrificed everything in this war, and if he could repay him, he would; if only Severus could forgive him.

"I'd like to have my evening off."

Dumbledore watched him for a while, "Where would you go?"

Severus snapped at the question and glared at Albus, who flinched unnoticeably at the hate in the look.

"That is private."

"Of course. You may have it."

"Thank you."

Dumbledore watched Severus quickly walk away. 'He said he went back to where he belonged. Surely he'd pay Lucius Malfoy a visit sooner or later. It seems the day has arrived. And what to say about this agitation in Slytherin's lower years portraits reported? And the numerous authorisations of their parents for them to be out this night… here, one comes again.' He thought when an owl perched itself on his window. 'It looks like all of them will be out tonight. No wonder where. Albus, my old friend, a big event will occur this night at Malfoy Manor, and you must not miss it under any circumstances.'

- - - - - -

Severus had gone back to the dungeons, hoping he could talk to Draco. As he entered the seventh year boys' dormitory, he found them conversing with professor Cast. What was with this man for Draco to have such confidence in him? He knew things only someone who lived long in the castle could know, but still, he seemed in his young thirties, and couldn't have been a student, for Severus would remember him. There was a mystery there, just under his nose, and he didn't like it.

Draco looked up, "Severus, we were waiting for you. Sit!" he ordered as he transfigured a chair.

"Soon, Dumbledore will have received every Slytherin's letter. Severus, I believe he agreed to you out this night? Yes, so that let you, Atus. You're a second hand teacher and have no need of his agreement, still, you'll let him know you're out only minutes before going. By the way, your brother told me some really interesting facts. We'll have to talk about it. Crabbe and Goyle, you'll take the first to third years with you at eight and a half. Blaise, I'll let you the fourth to seventh years boys and you'll tell Pansy to watch over the girls; you'll go at nine. If there is any problem at the Manor, ask the Baron, he's already there. Severus, there is a change: you'll go alone at nine and a half, my father will be waiting for you in the library. Then the ceremony shall begin."

"When will you arrive?" Inquired Blaise.

"Surely at nine too, but I may be late. A surprise is not to be rushed." Draco and Blaise smirked a knowing smile.

They all proceeded to breakfast.

Blaise observed the smile Potter flashed Draco as they entered the Great Hall. He had warned him against making any move, still he had to let it pass: orders of the boss. What could his lord be plotting with the little Gryffindor? Surely he did not think of an alliance, the Clan was powered enough on its own. So what... Love? He was not sure Draco was capable of love; still, the past year, he never thought Draco could be the Heir. Malfoy who couldn't win a quidditch game against Potter, Malfoy who was ridiculed so many times by the Trio, Malfoy whose father was on the edge of Azkaban; he'd finally overpowered them all: Gryffindors, Ministry, and Dumbledore. They were all behind him at this moment. And this night, the first ceremony since fifty years ago would echo in Malfoy Manor, and Draco be sealed forever as Slytherin's Heir.

- - - - - - - -

The night had been restless for Harry, as he took new resolutions. Draco had allowed him to see his weaknesses and the Gryffindor intended to make good use of this help.

He'd made an error by thinking Dumbledore invulnerable, and many had been put at risk for it. Nevertheless, he had no right to blame the headmaster for that: the man had fight Voldemort for almost fifty years, no wonder he let his defences down sometimes. They had to fight united and Harry had to remember Dumbledore was someone he could trust. That was simple.

His parents had died to protect him, his godfather was missing and probably dead, Gryffindors and the world counted on him, and Draco, his Draco fought on his side. Maybe he went to his death, but before he let himself be killed, he'll make sure of Voldemort having a run for his money.

Ron woke to see Harry's bed empty. He quickly dressed and went to the common room, only to find Hermione, a little smile on her lips, eyeing their friend. The young man was staring at the fire, a gleam in the eye, and turned towards them, "Let's go and eat".

And as the three of them marched to the Great Hall, a single thought was is Ron's mind : "Our Harry is back!"

Harry took a seat at the Gryffindor table and, quickly spotting his favourite jam, began eating. As he was about to gobble up a full spoon of it, he registered Draco entering the Hall, and flashed him a radiant smile, 'yes, Draco, your career of heart-breaker comes to an end. Soon, you'll be mine, and for good.'

The day passed as it came: the students' concentration went decreasing with the hours. Everyone thought of Saturday's feast for Halloween. Everyone? No. Ron was worrying over his little sister, whose head has begun aching some days ago and wouldn't stop, even with all of the potions Madame Pomfrey had given her.

She hadn't shown up at dinner and Neville had come and search for Dumbledore in the middle of it : Ginny had locked herself in her room and refused to go out, saying she'd hurt someone. Forcing open the door, they had discovered her unconscious.

Madame Pomfrey examined Ginny's body silently for minutes; minutes which were torture for the four friends. Finally, the mediwitch got up and asked for Professors Snape and Cast. She suspected young miss Weasley had been had been cast a shadow mind curse upon but this part of psychic magic being little known to her, she needed the assistance of dark magic and maledictions' specialists.

Some time later, the two men entered the room. A flash of worry passed Atus' eyes as he saw Ginny and a hint of hurt in Dumbledore's, at Severus's act of indifference.

The professors came near the lying body and Cast took Ginny's hand as Snape sprinkled drops of a potion he'd brought with him on her forehead. As soon as the liquid touched her skin, it vanished into a black smoke. Atus and Severus eyed each other, talking incoherent isolated words the four students couldn't made out. As by mutual agreement, Professor Snape finally raised his voice :

"It appears Mrs Weasley has been touched by a dark being, probably a beast from the forbidden forest, but it seems suspicious she'd have been able to come back into the castle. We rather think of a dark spirit that would have got out of the forest and cast a dark mind curse on her during her sleep. Why her, though, and not one of her roommates ? It may be due to her lack of defensive magic since her possession in her first year, but another theory would be that the beast was manipulated by a more powerful mind. Considering how to save her, only one person ever survived to an encounter with a dark spirit, and he'd been cured by a magus; but since every known magus has been put into Azkaban fifteen years ago, charged with use of dark curses by Mr Weasley, and died there; I doubt they'll be very inclined into coming back from the dead to help his daughter. Meanwhile..."

"Would that kill you not to tell jokes when Gryffindors have important problems ?" Cut Harry, seconded by Ron, who seemed ready to kill Snape. Severus eyed the Gryffindors as he would watching despicable insects before crushing them. "Well. Since I'm not able to restrain myself from 'telling jokes' in the middle of 'important' conversations, I guess I'll leave you with more serious people to debate on the problem."

When he was gone, professor Cast sighed, "Harry, magus are dark druids, they really are able to come from the dead and help the living."

Harry was stunned and Ron muttered a "oh shit!" which was frowned upon by Madame Pomfrey. Hermione made to run into the corridor and catch back Snape but Cast stopped her, "There is no use, he was to leave for the evening immediately after we had resolved this problem. Since you curtailed our need of him in this affair, he should already be gone."

"What was so important for Severus to go out of the castle without giving notice of it?" Asked Madame Pomfrey, having not been informed by the headmaster. As a member of the Order of the Phoenix, she was aware of Snape being a spy, and was generally warned before he had to go, for he might need immediate assistance when coming back: Voldemort was not someone one was eager to pay a visit to.

"He talked about a baptism," Said Atus.

"Harry," interrupted Dumbledore, "I suggest you go and search for Mr Malfoy before he also disappears."

The Gryffindor ran through the door.

"Headmaster, how can Malfoy be of any help?" Inquired Neville.

"Because we need information that only a dark wizard knows of."

"But Malfoy isn't a death eater?!" Remembered Ron.

"Still he's a user of dark magic. He should know what we need..."

Nevertheless, five minutes later, Harry came back empty-handed, "They've all disappeared! The Slytherin's Dungeons are empty!"

Every person in the room then eyed Dumbledore, expecting him to explain all mysteries. Finally he talked, "Now has come the time to reveal to you what is happening in Hogwarts."

He took a seat, indicating at them to do the same.

"When Salazar Slytherin was still alive, and the school already created, he noticed his students were rejected by the other houses, due to their ambition, but also lack of sociability. If he admired such eagerness and cunning in one's personality, he also valued relations with others, if only with one's own house. Fearing their yearning would bring the fall of the house, he created what later took the name of Snake's Clan. The other founders hadn't been aware of it and the Clan remained a secret till the fourteenth century, when legends began to take form. It was said Slytherins performed dark magic rituals every year for the newcomers, that they sacrificed muggle-borns to a Death God, or other similarities. We still can't differentiate the truth from the falseness in them. When a strong child entered the Slytherin house, and revealed themselves as the heir of Salazar's personality, they became a leader to the house, a figure to be admired and respected by all others, in exchange for protection. Fifty years ago, as Tom Marvolo Riddle was in Hogwarts, he put himself on the throne and ruled as every heir, but then did something that was never done before: he used of his influence to unite Slytherins after their graduation, when they should have each pursued their own road. He made death-eaters of them. Nonetheless, there were Slytherins that couldn't accept this domination: some quit the Clan and were killed; others, more careful, remained subjects to Voldemort but became spies, such as Severus. Time passed away; using his link to their parents, Voldemort enlisted Slytherin children. Still, for all his power, he couldn't prevent another heir to be born, to attend Hogwarts and finally, to steal the place he owned in the Slytherin students' hearts. You've all noticed Mr Malfoy's strange attitude since the beginning of the year and it should now be clear to all of you. Other elements allowed me to conclude that Mr Malfoy has an ambition to rival Voldemort's and has extended his sovereignty to every willing Slytherin. That is the only explanation I have for the sudden disappearance of ex-Slytherins, death-eaters or not. Still, there's a fact I cannot understand: as I did some research, I discovered every heir was a blood descendant of Salazar, but as far as I can go back in the past, there is no link between the Slytherin and Malfoy lineages... "

He stopped, waiting for them to put their thoughts back into order.

"However, Headmaster, if it is so much of a secret, how could you have learned all of this?" Asked Professor Cast.

The quartet of Gryffindors stared at the teacher, whom they'd forgotten to be there, and wondered who he was for the headmaster to reveal all he knew to him.

"An old friend trusted me enough to answer some questions."

"Could this old friend be Severus Snape, by any chance ?"

Dumbledore's piercing eyes were directed into Cast's ones.

"How it is that I cannot remember you being in the Slytherin house ?"

Atus smiled, hands in the pockets.

"Maybe because I wasn't. But this conversation will have to come to an end, for I wouldn't miss the come back of a friend. Draco Malfoy gives you his regards. Have a good evening, headmaster!" And he exited the room.

"A member of the Snake's Clan ?" Asked Madame Pomfrey.

"I think so. I fear Mr Malfoy's desire is to succeed to the dark lord, but I also believe he has no wish to conquer the world or destroy the muggles. As the clan is rapidly gaining power, it may become dangerous for us to let him remain so a secret. Voldemort should have made the same reasoning and will stop at nothing to gain Mr Malfoy's support. That is why we need to be quicker and to assure a serious alliance between the Order and the Clan."

"Headmaster, I wondered, where have all the Slytherins gone to?" Inquired Hermione.

A twinkle illuminated Dumbledore's eyes, "Ah, Miss Granger, this sort of information is to remain a secret, but if I own your promise not to rush into problems, I may consider telling you."

Silently consulting themselves, they nodded.

"You're aware of Severus having been a spy for the Order. Fifteen days ago, Draco revealed himself to him as the new heir, and Severus chose to 'go back where he belonged'. Those are his words."

"The... the traitor !" Raged Ron.

"No" calmed Harry, "He was a traitor to his Clan when he helped us. I understand now. This 'baptism' is his, isn't it? A sort of initiation to prove himself worth of being accepted back."

"But won't he be a danger to us now?" asked Neville.

"Absolutely not," explained Albus, "The Clan shall not be mixed up with death-eaters, as Mr Malfoy shall not be confounded with Voldemort. If both of them dream of domination, their ways to it differ totally. I almost think that..."

He couldn't finish his sentence as a head appeared in the chimney.

"Mad-Eye Moody!"

"Ah! Headmaster, finally I found you! This day is the day of Lucius Malfoy's downfall. We finally tracked a sign of strange magic in the manor and are preparing to enter. Weasley's leading the aurors".

Harry then witnessed something he never thought possible: Dumbledore blanched.

"Stop them! The manor is to be left undisturbed this night."

"What?! Dumbledore, you're nuts! That may be our only chance to bring him down!! Besides, that's already too late!"

"Yes Albus, why stop them? With Lucius Malfoy in Azkaban, Draco will easily agree to our terms," insisted Madame Pomfrey.

"That is the contrary! If Draco's father lays in prison, the boy will stop at nothing to destroy Arthur Weasley, even if that includes associating with Voldemort! And I assure you the man won't mind accepting back Lucius and Severus who betrayed him, if that means getting to Draco and his potion!"

As he talked, he had got up and searched for floo powder, then cast some in the fireplace, "Malfoy Manor's catacombs!" Rapidly, the four students followed him. They appeared in a small room, devoid of any decorations, possessing only a chimney and a door, through which they could hear raised voices.

"You have to remember," said Dumbledore to Ron, "Mr Malfoy passed over everything, the feud between your families, the enmity between your houses, to consider it with a new eye. Your father just put them back into place. The price for your sister's well-being will raise to dizzying heights."

He then opened the door and entered, as the voices stopped. Harry made to follow him but...

"Don't move!"

- - - - - - - -

How could this rat even dare talk to him his way?!! After everything he sacrificed to save his miserable ass! Severus comforted himself by thinking he'd long paid his debt to James Potter, and had given amply enough aid to the Order to be excused for his crimes as a death-eater. Besides, he was of no use to them anymore, having been discovered by the dark lord's minions. By the way, Snape wondered, how long had Draco known about Voldemort having exposed him as a spy? He himself had painfully learned it during his dream in the night, and considering how much it had hurt, he was in no rush for his meeting with Voldemort in person. Had the boy known before or after confronting his teacher two weeks ago? Surely after, for Snape had met with the dark lord only days before, and he'd been the same sadistic nutcase as ever. More important, who had denounced him?! He couldn't think of any name susceptible of it.

He arrived in front of his quarters' fireplace and wavered. He'd been to go with Draco in the first place, but there had been this change in plans, and he wasn't too cheery in having to meet Lucius alone. Surely Draco had told his father about his teacher's treason. Severus didn't think the Malfoy senior minded his betrayal of Voldemort, since he'd done the same for the Clan, but the man hated insubordination above everything, and the little Gryffindorish incident should have let him angry. And Snape knew that if a joyous or horny Lucius was a very pleasant thing, an angry vampire could be particularly dangerous and dolorous. Another point against him, last time they'd met was a month ago, and Severus wasn't assured he'd eaten during the time. An angry AND hungry vampire was considered one of the most dangerous creatures. If he came out of it alive, he was the luckiest man on Earth. Apprehending the encounter a last time, he cast floo-powder in the fireplace.

- - - - - - - - - -

Draco apparated at the Manor, a capacity only true Malfoys have, at nine and thirty-five and was immediately accosted by a ghost.

"Baron," he saluted.

"My lord," the spirit bowed, "Snape still isn't here."

Draco frowned. Decidedly, Severus abused his patience. He liked timing to be respected, and if the man hadn't a perfect excuse for being late, he was on for a solid correction. He left the Bloody Baron to check on the planning and left for the library. He knew his father had felt him arrive and was on his way to him. Draco felt his anger disappear as he entered the large room: Lucius, who was standing in front of the fireplace, watching the flames, turned as his son entered and slightly bowed his head. He waited for Draco to sit then imitated him. The young looked amusingly at his father; no wonder the wizard had been Voldemort's second so long a time: he knew how to behave.

"So, father," he emphasised on the word, "What have you decided for Severus?"

Lucius smirked a knowing smile, "You brought all Slytherin house, you ought to have decided in my place."

"Not at all. Severus is yours, yours to initiate... or to kill. Another is to be accepted in the Clan this night."

The man thought for a moment and seemed to understand, "A Gryffindor in the Snake's Clan... Salazar would roll in his grave." He clearly disagreed of the idea.

"Don't make assumptions Lucius, you lack the elements to judge," Draco seemed lost in thoughts, as remembering a long, long forgotten memory.

The Malfoy lord eyed his son up and down, wondering what could be happening in that head of his. This scene recalled something to him: one and a half years ago, he'd been on the very first line of being sent to Azkaban, for attacking Potter in the Ministry, and had barely escaped, thanks to a Imperius someone had put on him. The aurors never discovered who was responsible of it, and assumed it was Voldemort. Still, when Lucius had come back to the Manor, he'd found Draco waiting for him, eyes turned to the inside of his brain. His son had registered him and the boy had turned cold silver eyes on him. It had made him shiver out of fear, then Draco had said: "I will give you one year to quit the death-eaters. After this time, father or not, I will kill you." Before Lucius could react, he was out of the room. The senior remembered how bad he'd felt at this moment: discovering your own son had put an Imperius on you without you even noticing, finding out he'd been planning something against your lord, that you were his way to getting it, and that he wouldn't mind killing you if you interfered. That was hard to get over it. When he'd seen him again, Draco had seemed normal, but this gleam in his eyes remained, and it became commonplace of him to wander aimlessly in the Manor. Six months later took place the Narcissa then Weasley incident: during a raid in Romania, Voldemort had come upon a dragon reserve and caught sight of red hair, Charlie Weasley. He'd kill every impure wizard and took the young man with him, intending to send his head to the father. Being Voldemort, he'd began by torturing him and soon all that had remained was a pool of blood and a lying corpse in the middle of it. Then Draco had appeared out of nowhere, made the boy apparate away and stand in front of he dark lord. Lucius didn't know whom he was the most afraid for at the moment: his son or himself.

_"Do you have an idea of what you just did, boy?" Hissed Voldemort._

_"I took away your toy from you," Replied Draco with calm._

_"You have a death wish," Laughed Wormtail, but he couldn't tell more before he was petrified, Lucius not knowing if it was the result of Draco's or Voldemort's curse, then discovered he couldn't make any more move than the rat._

_Both of them had their wand out, ready to curse, but instead, they charged against one another and Lucius heard metal confrontation, as wands morphed into blades. They exchanged blows for a time, till Lucius's heart stopped: Voldemort's sword pierced through Draco's torso._

_"You were a fool, boy," Whispered Voldemort._

_Draco's eyes glinted silver, reflecting the moon, "YOU are." He impaled himself totally on the blade, his right hand grabbing the Snake's neck, and before the dark lord could react, fangs were tasting his blood. _

_Lucius saw in a flash Voldemort shivering, Draco pushing him away, Voldemort falling, Draco getting the sword out of himself, Voldemort getting up, Draco morphing the blade back into his enemy's wand, blood dripping from his mouth, tongue licking red fangs._

_"You've lost. Weasley's mine."_

_From the distance, Lucius heard Voldemort's teeth grind, "Accio wand!"_

_The piece of wood flew from the blonde's hand, and before the boy could pick his up, the green curse was on him. Lucius heard himself crying his son's name as the biding curse put on him was released and he ran toward the lying body. Draco's corpse was still and for the first time in years, the vampire felt his eyes watering. He vaguely registered Voldemort raising his wand a second time, behind him, and readied himself to die, when Draco's eyes opened, glaring straight into Voldemort's ones. His mouth curved, "Too bad, isn't it?" and both father and son disappeared in a puff of smoke._

"What are you talking about?" he asked his son.

Draco got out of his reverie, "A millennia ago, a Gryffindor was admitted in the Clan, baptised by Salazar."

Lucius raised his eyebrow, "Really? Who was he?"

The blond smirked, "Our ancestor."

At this precise time, the senior forgot how to breathe. Draco watched his father amusingly: the man, usually so grand, sat there gaping at the piece of news. "You... you're kidding, aren't you?"

"No. The first Malfoy was a Gryffindor."

Lucius breathed slowly, regaining his calm and sighed, "Was he of a good family, at least?"

Draco frowned at him, "I just told..." but stopped and smirked again, "Yes, a powerful one."

The blond man searched some more in his thoughts, "The first Malfoy... This boy, friend of Salazar, that appeared out of nowhere, disappeared after eight years, and reappeared a year after, a child in his arms... I remember, I named you after the baby."

"A very fine initiative, father. Salazar would have been deeply pleased."

Draco wanted to say some more, but a noise caught their attention, and from the fireplace emerged the potions' master.

- - - - - - - - - - - - -

Severus took a step in the room, saw the two sitting men and bowed; Lucius's eyes darkened at his sight and Draco frowned.

Still kneeling, he slightly raised the head and glanced at them.

"You are late, Severus," Stated the young vampire.

"I was held back at the castle... my lord, the little Weasley was attacked by a dark shadow," He added, wondering if that would be enough to calm them.

Fortunately, their reactions seemed favourable: Draco smirked and Lucius nodded.

"Ah!" Exclaimed the boy, "That may be our lucky day. Old Voldie makes it easy on us," he laughed some more, "I let the both of you alone. You ought to have a lot to say to each other," And he exited the library.

Still kneeling, Severus slightly raised his head and glanced at the Malfoy lord: hooked up to his belt was the ceremony's dagger, which would initiate or kill him soon. Lucius got up in a feline move and went towards him. Snape didn't see the fist coming till it connected with his jaw. Effectively, Lucius was angry. Blood in his mouth, Severus picked himself up: if he let his dignity be taken, Lucius would definitely judge him unworthy of the Clan, so that was NOT to happen.

Lucius looked at him with disgust and fury contained in his silver eyes, and Severus suddenly had the feeling to be a little boy again, and more precisely, a second year student. His father had crushed many death-eaters in order to become Voldemort's right hand and it had appeared their children wanted to take revenge upon him for it. For weeks, he'd been seen regularly with black eyes or bleeding nose he tried to hide, for going to Madame Pomfrey would have been Gryffindorish. Of course, these ones had also taken advantage of his isolation and a part in his wounds. His hooked nose was a consequence of this period that was never fixed, having been broken too many times.

That night, he had decided to make a new counter-attack: the Slytherins thought these acts were the Gryffindors' and it delighted him to watch his two persecutors fight one against the other. He'd secretly made painting bombs and disposed them so that they would explode when students opened their dormitory's door in the morning and not before.

_He'd only have to make sure not to be the first getting up of his room. He incrusted the last bomb in the last door and took some steps back to admire his work: no one could see them and what with the confusing charm he'd place upon them, only a teacher would be able to remove them, but by the time one arrived, it would be too late._

_Severus made to go and sleep for it was already two in the morning, but something caught his robe and projected him brutally on a wall. He fell back on the floor and eyed everywhere but no one could be seen. Quickly understanding, he took his wand out, "Accio Invisibility Cloak!"_

_He was rewarded only a glimpse of three people before two of them were on him, beating him black and blue._

_"Stop it!" ordered the third person, a feminine voice, "What are you? Mudbloods? We have wands, let's use them and make sure this little worm never try attacking good death-eaters again. Crucio!"_

_Severus writhed in agony on the floor. Each part of his body hurt more than the others, the harsh beating of his heart resounded in his head and the air of the common room echoed with his cries. Rendering thanks to Merlin, he fainted. It felt so good in this world: no pain, no death-eaters, no father to please. Severus was in a isolated bubble, he floated inside his own mind, not minding the exterior when a dolour in the ribs burst his balloon of pleasure._

_He painfully awoke, discovering himself naked, Lestrange above him. Realising what was to happen, he kicked and hit all he could, screaming and hoping their head of house would hear and come. He was in this unfavourable position when he saw a shadow above Rodolphus. The older teenager lifted his head and registering who it was, quickly got up, leaving the naked and bloody boy on the floor._

_"I thought I already told you, Lestrange. You don't want to hunt on my territory."_

_"But," intervened Bellatrix, "he was placing bombs on the doors!"_

_Lucius' eyes glinted dangerously, "Really?! And? Are you so dead beat you can't detect them without spying on him? Maybe you'd also like Dumbledore to defuse them for you while you're at it. You're Slytherins, act like ones! Another mudblood's complain?"_

_"N... No. Sorry," Excused the girl and they went up their dormitories._

_The blond turned back to Severus, "Get dressed and clear off before I change my mind and rape you myself."_

He'd observed his future lover for a time then grabbed his clothes and ran to his dormitory. At the time, Lucius was considered the most influential force in the Slytherin house. Feared by the Gryffindors and a bunch of professors, he made the law. Even these bastards of Potter and Black never dared come unto the young Malfoy, when they constantly fucked with his own young self. For their defence, one could say Lucius was famous for using curses which were so little known they couldn't even be classified as dark magic by the Ministry.

Their relation stopped approximately at this point, even if Severus could be seen more and more in Lucius' shadow. Three years later, the blond graduated and he was left alone in the castle. Of course, the Gryffindors didn't wait long to go back to buggering him constantly. Those were the memories from a period in his life that he would rather have forgotten. Then, to Severus' utter relief, his own graduation came. Astonished, he'd spotted Lucius in the tier of seats; the young man had let his hair down to his shoulder and from the distance, Snape could feel the heat of the fixed and intent gaze he was subjected to. The ceremony completed, they'd joined in the gardens and strolled in the Forbidden Forest. He'd been excited when Lucius' had first touched his lips, desiring when they'd kissed and horrified when he'd felt fangs. He'd cried when the vampire had first bit him, cried when the man had penetrated him, and cried again when he'd shouted his lover's name. From this day, he'd been Lucius' property and in exchange hold in the blonde's heart a place Narcissa never reached. He'd resented the most horrible jealousy when discovering Lucius' tight bond with his baby boy and the most pleasurable feeling as the vampire had placed his son in his arms. They'd become his family, the people he loved above everyone else, and he'd betrayed them to Dumbledore.

The vampire caught him by the arms and flattened him against a wall. Second guess right: he was hungry. Merlin, that was bad! He could only think about relaxing his neck's muscles when two fangs ruthlessly penetrated his flesh, tearing it open with brute force. Tears went to his long dried eyes, dug out of his ice-cold heart by the fear and hurt he resented faced with his suddenly rough lover. Totally different from the pleasurable moments they'd shared for twenty years, he experienced what vampire's preys felt when dying, reaped away from his heaven, his life and his body. The throes of dolour went to his mind, draining it of its strength and sanity, expended to his full body in waves of a wretched agony. Canines quitted him and lips kissed away from his neck a unique pouring drop of blood.

Severus felt his half-dead corpse being lifted and carried away, then delicately deposited on a sofa. Delicate hands took care of his abused neck and encircled it with a silk scarf. Still caressing his hair, a warm body lay next to him and the man opened his eyes, looking right into a pair of moon-silver orbs.

"Why didn't you kill me?" he heard himself ask in a whisper.

"I wanted to, but it appears even a vampire can't fly above twenty years of relationship." As he said it, Lucius softly smiled.

Severus could finally relax and buried his head in the vampire's silver mane.

"So, what do we do?"

"As easy as pie, Sevy, we dress you up a little for you to be presentable, you follow me to the catacombs, Draco and I initiate you, we settle a minor problem, I take you to my room and relish you all night long. Does that suit you?"

Severus' voice quivered as he felt his member hardening, "Y... yes, that suits me perfect."

After a moment, they got up, Snape re-arranged his shirt and robe then, as had said Lucius, the vampire guided him through the long and dim corridors of Malfoy Manor, Severus' anxiety now totally vanished for he knew he had both the Malfoys' acceptance. The magnificent imposing door was made of the rich and noble wood ebony, its darkness revealing all the more august and majestic work of craftsmen that had made of this piece: exquisite lines of gold artfully unveiled the subtle design of a Snake... no... of an Asian Dragon.

This creature was among the rarer dragons. From far away, it looked like a gigantic snake, but should the observer come nearer, he would notice the strong legs and especially the many canines of the mouth.

The glorious door opened to let them pass. Slytherin's students were grouped in two lines. An alley divided them and the Ritual Room. At the end, was Draco.

- - - - - - - - - - -

Draco entered his room, his sanctuary. Here he'd cast his first curse in secret; here he'd decrypt Salazar's manuscripts and discover his heritage...

_Salazar woke up from his dream and got up. As water magically poured from his hands, he quickly washed his face then caught a towel and dried himself. His sight fell on his reflection in the mirror that faced him: despite his one hundred and twenty-six years, he looked like a man in his forties, but in his body, he could feel the weigh of the years. A week ago, he'd assisted to his son's burial and that had been hard on him. When his wife had died, committing suicide, he'd quarrel with his children and the other founders about her. Finally, Salazar had left Hogwarts and England for the continent, and only come back after fifty years to discover his son dying. They'd reconciled and spent the last year of life he had making up for the lost time, but most of it was definitely gone: his grandchildren couldn't remember him for they were too young at the time he'd disappear, and their own grandchildren, students in the school, only looked at him with pride. Of course, he was flatted to be the recipient of it, still, he'd have preferred their relation to be more family-like and less politic. _

_Salazar went to the window and looked at the garden, already full of children in spite of the early hour. Holidays had begun and Godric's, Helga's and Rowena's families had come as every year to spend some time with them. The wizard scoped a throng of new faces and wondered which one belonged to which family. He could have figured it out by magic but felt too tired to use it. A brawl next to the forest caught his attention: a bunch of kids were molesting one another. All dark brown haired, these ones surely were Godric's. The boy disappeared in the trees and the gang went the other way. Unmoving for a moment, Salazar finished dressing and headed for the forest._

_He walked for a moment, gathering some plants, knowing the boy was observing him with curiosity and some fear. No surprise in that: out of the week the children had been there, he'd spend six days in his dungeons, working on a potion, and had never eaten with them. That means all they knew about him were the founders' stories. Considering the opinion they'd had of him for the fifty years he'd been absent, he ought to be at least a dark wizard, ogre, cannibal and Satanist. He silently laughed at the idea and wondered if the child had boots of seven leagues. _

_Moving further into the forest, he was rewarded with the light sound of the boy coming down from his tree. He cut a stalk of mint and turned back, looking at the trunk the child was hidden behind. _

_"Why don't you come out? You may. I ate this morning, you ought to live till tomorrow at least," He lied to the tree._

_There was some movement, a pair of blue eyes got out and judging there was no danger, the body followed. Salazar could finally take a better look at the boy: opposite to what he'd thought seeing previously, his hair was a very dark blond, still, the face screamed of him to be Godric's. Besides, why was it he had the impression to look at the sweet face of a little girl? Mystery of nature, perhaps. _

_"Apple?" As he asked, a fruit appeared in his hand and he presented it to the boy._

_The child eyed him with suspicion for a time, then he made three steps toward the wizard and took it._

_"Thank you milord." _

_"Would you like to walk?"_

_Suspicion rose again in the child's eyes, amusing Salazar some more and he wondered how long ago it was since the last time he'd enjoyed himself this much. _

_"You'll come back of it alive and in one piece," he added. _

_They departed. He let the boy eat his apple then asked, "Why is it I never saw you in the school? You seem to be of age."_

_There was a blank look. The child stopped and looked in the castle's direction, as a mouse searches where to hide when facing a cat, saw a big pine and said, "I'm twelve but I have no magic."_

_Salazar understood: his house was known for accepting only purebloods and hating squibs. What interested him was the fact he could feel the magic radiating of the boy, and powerful magic indeed. _

_"No magic?" he repeated kindly, "Why is that?"_

_"My mother was a muggle," The child explained with a shrug of the shoulders._

_So one of Godric's descendants had fallen for a muggle. Why not? "Why did they chase you?"_

_Coaxed by the apple and still being alive, the boy only hesitated before answering, "I am the consequence of a night of sex between Godric and my mother. She died giving birth to me and my grand-parents don't want to hear about me. I'm only here because my father has remorse."_

_"Oh... Where did you spend the year?"_

_"In Hogmeade's monastery, but it's more like an orphanage. The monks are kind and even some of them are fun."_

_Salazar smiled, "Would you like to learn some alchemy?"_

_The boy frowned, "But I have no magic," he repeated, probably thinking the wizard was slightly senile._

_"No need of it for alchemy." They had come back to the school, "So?"_

_Children and adults came curiously toward them, the first attracted by the fourth founder, the second by the presence of the child with him. The boy looked at his peers with a self-proud look and as he nodded to Salazar, he mentally cocked a snook at them._

_They penetrated in the dungeons and the child's stare was immediately on the cauldron, "Milord," he called, "Do you really brew potions in this?"_

_The man laughed, "Yes, I do, as every wizard. Maybe you have a name I may call you by?"_

_"My name is Merian but they all call me squib," The child answered casually. He probably didn't know what 'squib' meant._

_"Merian is fine."_

_They'd spent the entire holidays, one teaching, the other learning. When Salazar had confronted Gryffindor about the boy, the wizard had clearly said he regretted everything that had come with the mother. Following instinct, Slytherin had proposed to take the child under his care, which was accepted. As the child had been victim of Godric's dishonesty with a muggle woman, Salazar named him Malfoi. (Mal foi is the ancient term for mauvaise foi which means dishonesty in French)_

_Three years later, he'd discover the mystery behind Merian's magic: at his birth, the centaurs had predicted he'd have a son which would possess the power and will to destroy Hogwarts. Not wanting to kill the baby, the three remaining founders of the moment had thwarted the menace by locking his magic and everything that could be linked to it inside his body. That also explained what happened eight years after their encounter. _

_Merian had grown up, learnt history of magic, some herbology and potion, excelled in alchemy and astronomy. Salazar even had found the way to teach him some elemental magic. Despite being famous for his prophecies, the man hadn't foreseen neither how handsomely androgyne the boy would become, nor the attraction and desire he'd feel when seeing him, nor the night he'd put him in his bed, and even less the day Merian had come ashamed and tell him he was pregnant. At this moment, Salazar had understood the power of the spell Godric had put on his son: to block everything in relation with magic, that had included all he had inherited from his father; the boy's soul had somehow be modified, becoming half-woman. _

_The first astonishment gone, they had decided Merian would stay in Slytherin Manor for a year. Salazar had called a powerful magus to take care of this first in men's history. _

_During this time, he had another manor being magically constructed. When Merian discovered it, he had difficulties to accept such present but resigned as Salazar said it was the price he estimated them, both father and baby. The time Godric heard of the child's existence, he was furious, Rowena and Helga with him, but Salazar calmed them, using their spell against them: the curse had been transmitted to the baby, they had no reason to be alarmed. He hoped they would never discovered the child was born of two men or he'd have difficulties protecting his new family from the three of them. They thought the mother was dead. The baby never went to Hogwarts and was taught magic in secret at the manor. Sixty years later, Salazar died, two years after Helga, seven months after Rowena and four days after Godric; he died in peace, knowing there was no one remaining on the Earth that knew about Merian's link with Godric or the curse. He let a manuscript, hoping the spell would some time come to an end and his heir be powerful enough to read it. The day after, Merian was found cold in his bed, having followed his lover in death, letting as lord of the Manor his son: Dracken Malfoi._

_Three hundred years later, the name was changed into Malfoy._


	10. Chapter 10 : A thousand years of waiting...

**Summary: **When long ago, Salazar created the Slytherin house and put himself on its throne, he never thought that, one day, the Snake could evolve and the crawling lord mute into the sky sovereign, the one and only Dragon. DM-HP, LM-SS, RW-HG

**Notes**: I didn't remember if Charlie or Bill was the eldest. I considered it was Charlie. Wrong guess. If that really bothers you, I can change some parts of the chapter but that would be unnerving for me, so if you could be so king as to forget this little fact.. I would deeply appreciate. .Also, when I wrote some of my ideas, Book five wasn't out yet, so there are some facts out of place. I say the Battle in the Department of Mysteries took place and Lucius was almost sent to Azkaban, and Sirius did fall into the world of dead, but Luna and Tonks don't exist. Thanks to my new beta Severinus who did a wonderful job of this chapter.

"blah-blah" talking

'blah-blah' thinking

_blah-blah_ flash-back

**Chapter 10 : A thousand years of waiting**

**Friday, October the 30th **

Moonlight flooded the royal-like room. Thick and soft sumptuously embroidered curtains framed the sole but noble window, rendering a unique view of this powerful realm that was the Malfoy's domains. For a thousand years now had they reigned as sovereigns on their lands. Time and Progress not persuasive enough to compete with the supreme and cogent commanding of the vampire lords.

Deified by the beams of light, the last heir stood majestically, offering this private world a centre. A black velvet robe soon coated the silk covered body. The silver shape of a Asian dragon emerged on the back and a snake belt girded it around his waist. Casting a last glance at the mirror, which nodded in appreciation of the sight, Draco drew a long breath and got out of the room.

As he travelled through the corridors, he recalled all he'd discovered in fifteen months of time. Having ferreted in the Manor, he'd found manuscripts and brought them to Hogwarts to entertain himself with decrypting them. He'd been horrified when reading the first Malfoy was a Gryffindor, and not as his father thought, that is to say someone that had gone in the Gryffindor's house, but a heir of Godric Gryffindor. Learning his mate had been Salazar Slytherin hadn't gone away any better: why this fucking Potter had inherited Slytherin's powers by fighting Voldemort and himself nothing, while being his heir?!

_Above everything, his father spent all his time with this red-eyed snake, grovelling at his feet. That was inadmissible and had to be stopped! Out of incommensurable rage, he threw a fist in the dormitory's wall, crushing his bones in the process and getting stares out of his roommates. Not wanting to receive more attention that he already had, he stuffed the parchment in his robe's pocket and went out, in need of destroying something... or someone. Potter seemed a right choice of victim. Pondering, he changed his mind: he felt the hunger in his system, the desire to hunt and to kill. At the beginning of the year, he'd discovered his father's secret and had no wish of Potter hearing of it, or worse, witnessing it. And what with Draco's hair growing suddenly long, canines morphing into fangs or nails into claws, the green-eyed wizard wouldn't lack evidence of what his enemy was._

_He suddenly stopped, finding himself in front of Salazar's statue._

_"I hope you're proud of yourself," he hissed angrily, "This whole shit is your doing!"_

_He'd only finished talking when he froze: the statue had smirked! He was sure of it..._

_"That make you smile? I'll laugh when your official heir will be killed by Potter!"_

_"A half-blood, heir of Slytherin? Salazar would be ashamed!"_

_Draco turned toward the direction of the voice and faced a wall, where was enthroned a painting that weren't there only a moment before. Looking at it, he had the impression of looking into a mirror._

_"Who are you?" He asked, his anger flying away under the surprise._

_"You ignore it?!" The painted frowned, "Really, I've become stupid with the time..."_

_He couldn't add any thing more as Draco's rage had come back like thunder and he clawed the boy's face. He faintly heard a cry of dolour but didn't registered since his own hurt more then he could bare. That had come when he'd touched the painting, what was in it?_

_"What did you do to me?" He shouted._

_The boy stared at Draco, pressing his hand against his cheek, "You fool! If you hurt me, you hurt yourself! You're me and I'm you, we're the same people in two different periods."_

_Understanding why it had hurt but not how it could have happened in the first place, it was Draco's turn to frown, "That doesn't say who you are. There's only one Draco Malfoy and it's me."_

_Seeming to realise, the boy materialised a cloth in his hand and wiped away the blood on his face, "You didn't read Salazar's parchment, did you?"_

_Not wondering how the other could know about it, Draco immediately answered, " Only half of it."_

_They observed one another for a time, "Finish reading it, then come back, we have a lot to talk about." And the painting disappeared of the wall._

_Not wanting to lose more time then he already had, he sat down in the middle of the corridor and took out the manuscript. That added all he needed to know: the boy on the painting was Dracken Malfoi, a ancestor of his, and he didn't know how, but it was also him. He began to enjoy the situation, despite the blood that poured on his cheek. He'd have to go and see Pomfrey later. He called for the young man and the painting appeared again._

_"Already?"_

_"The faster I know what you have to tell me, the less chance I have to lose you to Potter."_

_Dracken laughed, "You're right. Now, let me explain. When I still was alive, I was educated in what you call Malfoy Manor. I knew that my father, Merian Malfoi, was the lover of Salazar Slytherin but didn't care since I loved the man like a second father. I always thought that my mother was dead. Only when both of them went to shadows did I discovered the truth: my grand-father, the only Godric Gryffindor, had put on his son a curse that had turned him half-female and able to carry children, and I was born of it, fathered by Salazar. For a time, I hated the three of them, and only wanted to take revenge but it was impossible for the curse didn't allow me to use common magic. Hopefully, I still had elemental magic and the gift of foreseeing the future that I had inherited from Salazar. One night, it showed me what I needed: I was going to be reborn, I didn't know how long after my time, but it wasn't a problem. By that moment, I had forgiven my two fathers and spent all my life making sure no one besides me was aware of their past relation and, more important, learning all about these magics I couldn't use because of the curse. Now that the spell has almost disappeared, you have a part of the power. I have the mind and the memory, and I'm going to pass them to you."_

_Breathing a long sigh, Draco absorbed what he'd been told, "There's one thing I don't understand: in this painting, you're my age, how can you remember the magic you learned as you were older?"_

_Dracken smiled at the question, "Because my real self cast a link between himself and … me. I learned everything with him. In my dream, I saw myself there, in the school, so I had to infiltrate Hogwarts and find a way to wait for you. Not long before my death, the headmaster of Hogwarts wanted to thank me for my donations by making a painting of me. That was the last piece of my play: instead of letting them paint me, I gave them this painting to be placed where it is now. Two hundred years later, I disappeared from the wall, only to reappear in front of you, an hour ago."_

_Draco made an impressed face, "Pretty good plan."_

_"Yes, I'm rather proud of it."_

_"When will you pass me the memory?"_

_"When the moon is full. The magic it generates will prevent Dumbledore from sensing us."_

_Draco frowned, suspecting something he wouldn't like, "How could you know about him? You said your painting had disappeared till an hour ago," He repeated_

_"Easy: the painting was gone, but I not. I was a shadow, between life and death, and the Bloody Baron was my messenger. He was a friend of mine during my life. You may ask him if you doubt me."_

_"I will," he said, not reassured, "One more question," he added before going, "When I have your memories and mind, which one of us will command my body?"_

_He was willing to lend it for some time but not to give it up completely. If this affair resulted in being a mind in a body he couldn't command, he saw no interest in it._

_"We're the same. If we had more time, we could talk and you'd see we have exactly the same mind. When you'll have my memories, it'll still be you, but you'll see some things differently because of the experience you'll have acquired. You'll be more mature, mentally and physically and most important, when you have all of your magic back, you will be much more powerful. That's why you'll have to be prudent, but no need to worry about it: with my mind in you, it will be like having two brains that will work under your command and small things like that will appear … child's play. Have I answered your question?"_

_"Yes. Thank you. I have to go and see Pomfrey. I will see you when the next full moon rises."_

_Draco began to really enjoy his discoveries. After feeding a lie to Pomfrey and being cured, he went_ _back to his dormitory. He was going to write to his father, but suddenly remembered the Snake. In no way was this half-man gonna learn about this! He put his quill back in its box, deciding against telling anyone._

Two days later, Potter had been attacked in the Department of Mysteries and his father caught. Not knowing what to do, he'd gone to the portrait and asked advice. He knew it was very un-malfoyish but he couldn't let his father be sent to Azkaban. After much discussing, Dracken had possessed Draco's body the time to cast a imperius. It had been torture for Draco to resist Weasley's taunts about Lucius' judgement. At the full moon, he'd gone to the portrait, entered it, and spent the night in himself's bed (I know the world doesn't exist, but it is the only one that really corresponds to what I'm referring to so…). Gross, it had first sounded. When he'd woken alone, he had the worst head-ache of his life. He was himself and he was another. He remembered things he knew he hadn't lived. He possessed long disappeared knowledge. A dark laugh had erupted in the corridor as he'd dressed, got out and magically hid the now empty painting. He'd felt alive but still slightly incomplete.

The end of the year had been common place: victory of the Gryffindors and blah-blah-blah. He hadn't care.

When his father had been released, Draco had made his mind clear to Lucius: it was Voldemort or him. He had needed five months to totally absorb and master his memories. And when Lucius's choice had been made, Charlie Weasley had produced the perfect opportunity for Draco to defy Voldemort and destroy his father's allegiance before the dark lord could learn about Lucius's treason. Draco had been extremely pleased by the extent of his father's loyalty, despite the man trying to act behind his back. Interestingly, the red-haired young man was also revealed as a good addition in Draco's plans…

_"Where am I?" asked the red-haired_ _man, still groggy despite his body recovering full health after Voldemort's torture._

_"In Malfoy Manor," A voice he couldn't place answered. Suddenly realising what he'd been told, he rose with a start and his heart quickened. Merlin, why was his vision was so blurry? _

_"You've been out for a week. You should lie down some more so that your capacities are fully restored to your body."_

_The voice didn't sound menacing and he chose to follow the advice, as he couldn't do much more in his state. The other thing, he realised, he was… naked under the sheets, save for his pendant. That wasn't a good state to be in if danger occurred, especially after all that had happened to him during the week. After some time, the smoke of his sight began to take form and soon, he could see a small room, lighted by the white sun of a common winter day. A blond young man came to his right, which he assumed to be Draco Malfoy. He presented a glass._

_"Drink it," The boy simply ordered._

_Suspicious, Charlie caught the glass and hesitated. 'If they wanted to drug me, they could have done so in my sleep,' He thought, and drank. Relieved, he felt his muscles tightening and strength coming back. He looked at the blonde. _

_"Why am I here?"_

_Draco smirked, "Voldemort gave you to me as a sex-slave."_

_Charlie was horrified and it showed in his eyes, "What?! No way! Go to He…"_

_He couldn't add more as lips were pressed against his own, and a body crushed his on the bed. He tried to push but all strong he thought he was and all light the boy seemed, he also appeared stronger. Charlie went to punch the face on his, but hands seized his arms and maintained them above his head. As a knee stroke his crutch, he began to panic, memories coming back in strong waves; but the kissing stopped as unexpectedly as it had begun, and Draco was immediately out of reach, hand on the door's knob. _

_"You have clothes in the bathroom. I'll wait for you in the library. Ask Minty for the way, she's assigned to you."_

_Draco opened the door and was already out, when Charlie saw his head reappear, "Besides, it was a joke." _

_With this, Draco smiled and the door closed._

_Charlie blinked and sighed of relief, "A joke? What a dreadful sense of humour!"_

_He got up, a sheet around his waist, dreading the idea of walking around naked. 'In case it was a joke to be a joke, you never know with this family of madmen,' he thought to himself. There were two doors in the room, and he went to the one Draco hadn't used. 'Bathroom. Perfect.' He spotted the clothes, fearing his own nudity, took a quick shower and dressed._

_He decided to go to the library, despite the Draco danger. He had all the chances to be eaten alive by some monster or worse, to go back to the dark lord, if he tried to escape so it was surely not an option. Now that he was out of Voldemort's hands - he couldn't remember how but didn't care- he preferred not to go back to it. The horror it had been would be carved in his mind for life._

_Out of the room, he inspected the corridors, and settled for acting adult, "Hum… Minty?"_

_A little she-house-elf apparated in front of him. "What may Minty do for mister?"_

_Hopefully, this one seemed saner that the one he'd met one time at an Order's reunion. What was his name already? Doppy? Unimportant. _

_"I'd like the way to the library, please."_

_"Of course mister. Please, mister follow Minty." _

_He was taken through a series of embroidered galleries, and the elf stopped at a royal-like door. _

_"Here it is, mister. Please, mister may enter," she added when opening to him._

_He silently entered the room. There was only one word: magnificent. There were more books he'd ever seen, perfectly ordered, it seemed at first sight, and he took some time to go into ecstasies over the beauty of the place. _

_Then he caught Draco watching him from a sofa. A fire was burning in the chimney, making strange reflections in the boy's hair. The young man tapped his fingers next to himself, and Charlie had the bad feeling to be in one of Ginny's soap girl stories. Still, he took some steps and sat._

_"So, I think you know who I am."_

'_I'd rather not,' he thought when nodding. "Why am I here?" he asked for the second time this day._

_Draco smirked again and Charlie had to fight to not let his body instinctively retreat._

_"I took you from Voldie. The junk wasn't happy. I think he wants you back and your head in a ribbonned box."_

_"And why would Draco Malfoy rescue me from his master?" He spat, disgusted._

_That didn't seem the right thing to say as the boy grabbed him brutally by the shirt and brought his face next to his. "I. Have. No. Master." He accented on each word and the next thing Charlie knew, it was as if nothing had happened. Draco was smirking again, "I will not repeat it. Clear enough?"_

_Charlie caught his breath and muttered an approbation. _

_"Good. Now, if you really want to go back, I may take the old crook's place. I have some pretty good notions of torture," Draco added with a smile._

_"No, I'm fine as I am. Thank you… for saving me." It had gone out better that he'd thought. After all, considering the relation their fathers had, he could be happy with the turn of events._

_"To answer your question, I needed a pretext to destroy my father's allegiance to Voldemort. You were this excuse, and a lucky man: captured one week sooner or later, you'd have died."_

_A deep silence settled down in the library. Charlie watched Draco as the boy stared at him from head to toe. The feeling was disturbing but not overcoming and what with the life debt he was in, the least he could do was bare the sight. Draco's eyes fell on the pendant._

_"You like dragons?"_

_Disturbed from his thoughts, Charlie blinked, "Yes, I work with them."_

_Draco's eyes opened large, "Oh! I remember you, now. You brought the dragons to Hogwarts two years ago for the Triwizard Tournament."_

_"I did," he nodded, smiling. Charlie was relieved. He'd feared for a moment the hatred Draco had for the Weasley family would match the enmity they felt for the Malfoy's one, but Draco's actions and speaking contradicted this theory. He wondered a second if Ron could have imagined all he narrated to them about their feud, but his young friend Hermione seemed too bright a girl to back up such lies. So? Maybe the blonde boy had a double personality. He eyed Draco. 'What may he be thinking just now?'_

_"That you're a strange family," The young answered casually._

_"You heard my thoughts?!!"_

_"No, it showed on your face. I wondered how you, hotty, could be Weasel's brother."_

_Charlie gasped and frowned, "I am no 'hotty' thank you. I like girls and would rather my sexuality remain that way."_

_To his surprise, there was no uproar and Draco laughed.._

_"Really! I am not gonna eat you. No need to be so touchy!"_

_Charlie felt his face going hot as he remembered where he was and what he risked, "I'm sorry."_

_"No," Draco contradicted softly, "No, you're not sorry as you say. Gryffindors aren't sorry, they do not even apprehend this concept."_

_Charlie finally doubted the boy's sanity, "I assure you I know what it is to be sorry..."_

_"You think you're sorry? But didn't you only say this because you somewhat feared my reaction?"_

_The red-haired coughed slightly and averted the silver eyes, "Maybe yes..."_

_Draco's sight suddenly became thoughtful, "A Gryffindor remorseful. I never imagined I would live to see the day. Decidedly, you please me greatly, Charlie Weasley, in both body and mind."_

_Charlie took his time to observe the young man. How could it be he felt like a frightened child in front of this boy? He'd always considered himself as strong and mature, but Draco was more adult than he ever was. How could such a thing be possible? Harry was said to act grown-up, however never had Charlie had suffered this feeling of uneasiness when in his presence. The situation was disconcerting, and frightful._

_"I'm flattered... truly."_

_He thanked Merlin for the calm in his voice back. As he'd just said, he really was flattered: it wasn't everyday a Malfoy complimented a Weasley, after all..._

_"We may now want to take interest in more important subjects," Draco began. When he'd got Charlie's full attention, he went on: "The whole world thinks you've been captured by Voldemort, nevertheless, only four people saw you : The Snake, Wormtail, my father and myself. It's been two weeks to this day you've disappeared. One more and, at the end of the holidays, you'll be classified as casualty of war."_

_"Why can't you simply let me go?" He wanted to go back to his family, feel safe as he had as a child after the horror he went through._

_"Because it would be waging open war at Voldemort and I can't afford it yet."_

_"Still you said you took me from him..."_

_"With only the five of us, you included in the number, aware of it. He knows I won't bow in front of him and that my father chose me over him, but, as he's spying on Dumbledore, he's also aware that the man still thinks of me as an enemy. What Voldemort fears is the alliance I may conclude with the Order of the Phoenix. There is no risks of it happening soon, so he won't act upon my father's treason and it will remain a secret till one of us crack."_

_"Hmm... So I am to disappear... but what am I to do?"_

_He felt a tinge of guilt at the stress and desolation he'd put on his family._

_"That depends on you. You may stay hidden in here, or play an active part in my war."_

_A choice to make. If he accepted to work with Draco, it was treason to his family and house, but wasn't destroying the Snake lord the most important? There was here a resistance Dumbledore didn't have: a Slytherin faction, one that thought the dark by the dark, one that had the advantage of secrecy, if really You-Know-Who decided not to reveal his group's splits._

_"I'll work with you."_

_A smile illuminated Draco's features, "Good. Now this is settled, would you have lunch?"_

_After they'd eat en tête-à-tête, Draco guided him through on a horse tour of his lands. To Charlie's amazement, Draco was his height and possessed firm muscles he hid under ample robes. When asking about it, he'd been answered as long as it remained a secret, the better the surprise when revealed._

_"I need someone in faction at Hogwarts," The blonde announced to his new recruit, "You have six months to prepare and apply for the position of Curses and Malediction's teacher."_

_"But," Charlie objected, "I'll need Polyjuice Potion, I can't go like this!"_

_"We thought about it: my father is preparing a dossier for you. He'll help you absorb your new personality and face so that you'll be in total symbiosis. Dumbledore is suspicious since Crouch and Mad-Eye, but when you're out of my father's claws, even your own mother won't be able to recognise you."_

_Charlie trembled: he wasn't reassured at all about what he was having to face and worse, work, with the Malfoy senior. If Draco already overawed him, what would it be with his father? _

_However, when meeting formally, the man was pleasant, and after some discussing, even nice to his arch-enemy's son. This was a side he'd always thought non-existent in Lucius Malfoy's mind and it perplexed him. Questioning Draco about this special treatment,_

_"I can't have old enmities in my way," explained the young man, not shocked or vexed at all of the uncertainty in his elders' relation, "He acts accordingly to it. On his part, your father is free to choose his way: ally... or foe."_

_Two days later, Draco mentioned he would have to corrupt a Gringott's goblin when going to open a bank account under his new name. During the week they spent together, they became close friends, mostly due to their common interest for dragons; and when Draco had been ready to go back to class,_

_"I can't accept. It's all that remains to you from your previous life."_

_"A dragon to another dragon. Consider it the mark of my allegiance to your cause."_

_Little did Charlie know the pendant would be the cause of a stay at the infirmary._

_"Why didn't you defend yourself?" He asked when Draco had joined his father by the fireplace. If the blond could fight him back, Ron shouldn't have been a problem._

_"I can't let them know about me yet. This year is to be free of my influence. For now, I still am the rotten whining child."_

_Three months later, he went to Gringotts and went past his brother, who had been promoted to the London unity. The man seemed so down, even passed four months of mourning, that Charlie wasn't able to cope long with the sight and remorse and immediately sent a letter to Hogwarts._

_After two days of what he knew were Draco's investigations about Bill, he received the green light and went back to Diagon Alley. It took only some minutes to convince his brother he truly was alive, and even less for him to take part in the confidence. _

_The first day of summer holidays, Charlie and Bill met with Blaise, the what could be called first in command, and the Bloody Baron. How the ghost could leave Hogwarts, they didn't know and the spirit never cared to explain._

In theend, Draco was pleased with Charlie's initiatives and the Baron became his mentor. When applying for the job, he'd been taken to McGonagall, Dumbledore being absent. His mission had been a piece of cake: he'd been his best student and knew how to coax and handle her.

'Out of ten months of service, I never regretted my saving Charlie's life,' thought Draco as he posed at the last door, 'He served me well, it is time to reward him.'

- - - - - - - - - -

It's been one month now, and they'd placed magical sensors around the Malfoyestate. The same ones that are used at Gringotts, the best in the world. Monitors were packed in a secret room of the Ministry and tracked every signal of magic that escaped the lands. A group of spell identifiers and curse-breakers were working alongside with the aurors, his own son among them. Gringotts had secretly allowed the Ministry to borrow him for this special job. There, in front of his desk, he waited for the trace of dark magic that he would use to bring his enemies down. And here he was, faced with the blank screens, one day after the other. How was it possible they had detected nothing yet? With captors like the ones they were using on this case, no magic could go unnoticed. The Malfoys surely used dark magic on a daily rate, they had to! They were the evil personified, the overpowered demons that commanded over their estate as reactionary and hidebound despots, through sorrow and misery, disaster and maleficence. Prejudiced against everything and everyone that didn't meet their definition of pure-blood, they immorally and savagely distressed, tormented, persecuted, tortured and killed in excruciating pain. To kill couldn't even be used to describe such atrocities, for the butcheries they took part in had no name. These massacres were supervised by another abomination of their unprincipled, foul and crooked tarnished world: the dark lord Voldemort. Such being, no such thing should never have even been mentioned among the living.

Merlin helped, in this eerie silence, a noise stirred the air. Arthur Weasley's ear quivered and his chair went flying as the ring went on again and again. Finally! He called for the others and soon, many were ganged in the office, studying the screens.

"Assuredly, that's not white magic," Affirmed one of the spell-identifiers.

"Elemental either," Went on Bill.

"This line there resembles dark magic; an entrails-expelling curse, to be more precise."

"As long as it's dark, it fits me. Could it be something else?"

"That looks like no other known spell, that's for sure."

Forgetting any prudence in view of the wonderful news, Weasley shouted: "Perfect! William, write a report; Bill, you come with us. Moody, go and join Dumbledore by the fireplace. Aurors! We're going! Today is our day!"

They all apparated outside the Malfoy's grounds. It was dark and silent, almost peaceful; but this adjective didn't conform with the very nature of its owner: the lands were as soiled as its rulers, hiding their filthy and impure essence under elegant disguising and gentleman faking. Emboldened by a non-existent reaction to their presence, they entered the property, ran to the large manor and made a raid inside. They were immediately accosted by a house elf, horrified of this breakthrough.

"Where is Lucius Malfoy?" Authoritatively demanded Weasley. He had full power on this case and intended to use them.

"Master tells Minty he will not see anyone tonight," Quivered the frightened lithe elf.

"He will come and see us nonetheless! Where is he?" Insisted Weasley

"Minty can't tell. Master tells Minty he wi..."

"There is noise coming from underground," interrupted an auror.

Every furrowed brow suddenly disappeared from Weasley's face and he was a good twenty years younger. He turned back to the elf and ordered: "Take us to him!"

But the little creature stared at nothing and stayed where she was. An auror snapped his fingers, making the elf react who, to their surprise, smiled at them, saying: "Please, Misters follow Minty. Minty shall take Misters to the catacombs."

"The catacombs?" Murmured an auror to a work-mate, "Better be prudent, in case they use them as cells..." The other approved, then they proceeded after Weasley through the dim corridors.

Did they never used lamps in there? Wondered Weasley. The dark crept up around them. As they walked deeper, shadows lengthened, leeched the walls, moved and circled them. They slithered out, lashing their claws on their robes.

Heartening up, they saw a bigger source of light. Two torches illuminated a majestic door, making it look like the entrance of a pagan temple. Noise and gothic music could be heard through the magnificent piece of wood. Their spirit at their highest, their eyes glinting from the nearness of their aim, aurors readied their wands, and entered.

- - - - - - - - - - -

"You have to remember," said Dumbledore to Ron, "Mr Malfoy passed over everything, the feud between your families, the enmity between your houses, to consider it with a new eye. Your father just put them back into place. The price for your sister's well-being will raise to dizzying heights."

He then opened the door and entered, as the voices stopped. Harry made to follow him but...

"Don't move!"

Every single person in the room froze and looked as Draco made his way, smiling, to a not less frozen Harry.

"Surely you do not want to die, do you Harry?" He inquired kindly.

The boy's eyes rounded, "I'd rather not."

"Fine. So I suggest you stay in the antechamber. You can see everything from here and I assure you, you're more secured. You three idem," He added for the other Gryffindors.

"Why did you let Dumbledore enter, then? And why is it dangerous in the... this other room?" asked the black-haired boy, voicing what everyone wondered.

"Ritual room. That is the name of this place. And I let Dumbledore enter because he did it too quickly for me to react. Had he knocked, I would have told him the same I told you."

"Oh..." Harry cast a glance at Mr Weasley, who was wondering why they were all there.

At that time, Moody ran through the main entrance, saw the headmaster and understood he was too late. He came near Weasley and asked what had happened.

When the red-haired man didn't answer, Lucius looked at Draco who had never ceased smiling, came forward and explained, "Very simple thing: we were celebrating my son's birthday and you made a raid in my house. Aurors, then Dumbledore. I hope you have both warrant and reason, this time."

"You can cut the crap, Malfoy. Here is the warrant for arrest," Proved Weasley, showing the piece of paper with the Ministry's seal. "Both you and your son will come with us to the Ministry."

Aurors went towards Malfoy and made to grab Draco by the arms when Zabini interposed himself between them.

"Draco will go nowhere," he said menacingly, his right hand on his interior pocket, ready to take out his wand. At his words, the Slytherin population of the room moved in their direction, as to emphasise the point they would all protect their friend if need was.

The face to face between adults and youths could have lasted long, had Lucius not intervened, "I told you 'both warrant and reason' Weasley. Yet, you provided only the first," He remarked.

The official then took out of his robes another parchment and handed it to his nemesis. Lucius broke the seal, mentally read it, and gave it back calmly.

"These accusations are not founded. The study was made in haste and by an incompetent. To mistake whatever you detected for an entrails-expelling curse is laughable. There was no dark magic in this house tonight."

Actually, some smirks were appearing in the room, mostly at the adding of 'tonight' in the sentence.

"If you've nothing to hide, you won't mind a magical search, surely?" Even if aurors were the losers of the warrant duel, Mad-Eye still wouldn't let such an opportunity pass. "We have here a curse-breaker. He could do the job in no time," He insisted once more, showing Bill to the lands' lord.

"Another Weasley?" Lucius said as if he hadn't heard the question, "Have I seen all of them or is there some others left? By the way, how is that little girl of yours?" He casually asked the father of the mentioned one.

Startled by the unexpected question, the man fumed, "That is none of your business! Bill! Run your investigation!"

The young man faced the vampire and slightly bowed, casting at the same time a glance at Draco and Atus, who had joined the blond next to the Gryffindors, intent gaze unseen by his father. "I need your authorisation to begin," He informed the Manor's owner.

Lucius smiled, "But, feel free, boy. You have it."

"Thank you sir."

Weasley senior raged at his son's courtesy but kept himself in line. The mark of his eyebrows clearly showed he hadn't foreseen Malfoy's compliance and it intrigued him.

'He knew the aurors would come,' thought Dumbledore, 'and what with the look Bill sent Draco... or Cast. May they know each other? Assuredly. How could they have come into contact? Bill would never betray his family, or so I think. He liked his brother too much to associate with potential death eaters. Or he knows something about Voldemort I ignored. Lucius also knows about Ginny but that is no surprise, Severus and Cast ought to have informed them. That takes me back to: who is Cast? About this dark magic ... There was none in this room, of that, I am sure. Still, Arthur wouldn't have falsified an inquiry's report, especially this one: too many risks that Malfoy would bring them to the law. What could they have mistaken for a entrails-expelling curse? Last thing, Draco should be unhappy about the ceremony being interrupted, yet he shows none of it. No way could they have had the time to do it. Well, let's see what Bill found."

As he cogitated, the ex-Gryffindor had quickly moved around the room, casting little spells on the walls, the stone ground, some objects, and studied the variation of his wand's tip colour. Finally, he came back to the group, "Transcendental magic," He announced.

Whispers went among the aurors.

"What is transcendental magic?" Dumbledore heard Ron ask his she-friend.

"A long forgotten magic that mastered time and space," She answered easily.

'Let's trust Hermione to know that. How long is it since the last time I heard about it? So that was the 'other magic' Severus mentioned in Draco's learning. No wonder he couldn't recognise it. How could Bill, by the way? Transcendental magic isn't taught, even to spell-identifiers, and he is a curse-breaker. The books telling its detection's ways are so rare... That strengthens my idea that he knows Draco. But how could the boy learn about it? And master it, no less! And what about... The ceremony! I understand. Draco knew the aurors would come at the first sign of prohibited magic, surely by Bill; so he used transcendental magic to accelerate the speed of time inside the catacombs' walls, permitting the ceremony to be performed naturally. By the moment the aurors came, it was finished and he'd stopped his time curse. But what he said to Harry: not to enter since it was unsafe. No... He hasn't stopped the curse! It's still running, I feel it faintly in all the room, but we can't see it. Time is the same in the ante-chamber. What is the difference? What defines the line between safe and unsafe?'

The aurors were still unsure of the behaviour to adopt. They eyed Weasley, waiting for an order. "Transcendental magic is to be reported to the Ministry. You will follow us to the office," The official finally ordered, backed up by Mad-Eye.

'Here we have such a wonderful occasion to bring down the Malfoys.' Deliberated Dumbledore, 'for a more advanced investigation would bring out traces of dark magic. Yet, if I let them use it, none of us will ever come out of this place alive. It looks like we have lost for the second time, still that may be the moment for a first move toward them.'

"This will not be needed," he announced, "There is absolutely no law concerning this magic. A report will suffice."

"What?" Shouted Weasley, "Which side are you on, Dumbledore?"

"He's on ours!"

All eyes turned to the red-haired boy. "Dad, stop this! Ginny got attacked at the castle and we can't wake her, there is no time for this!"

Dumbledore observed Bill panicking at the news of his sister's state, then turning toward Cast, sending him an reproaching look. A later discussion with the curse-breaker became indispensable.

"Ginny... Malfoy! You knew it! Aurors, arrest..."

"Arthur Weasley!" Roared Dumbledore, his words echoing darkly in the catacombs, "You will stop this madness this instant! Stop accusing at random: they were warned by Severus. Your daughter needs you, go to your wife and bring her to the castle."

The man in question was standing with mouth agape, and it didn't close at the light laugh that raised after the eruption.

The headmaster turned to Draco who smiled broadly, "Fine, old man! If you insist that much, I will consider your request." His face clouded and his features hardened, his voice getting dull, deep and grave. "By all means, I am in no mood to go on. I've had enough of this masquerade. Lucius! Make them go before I kill."

On the strength of this statement, he walked to the main entrance where the doors opened to let him pass, and got out.

All stared at his departure, not uttering a sound. The boy had menaced them, no less. Of course, with the curse he had had on the room, he could allow himself the pleasure. But there had been none in his voice, only warning. He should have hit his limit of acceptance. After all, aurors were his enemies. Hopefully, when Draco had passed the threshold, Dumbledore had felt the spell vanishing, meaning they could go freely. Eerie silence was broken by the vampire, "I suggest you go away. I don't want bloody corpses in my house."

Aurors and Gryffindors departed dumbfounded.

- - - - - - - - - - - -

An hour later, a part of the Order was united in the Room of Requirement, which had appeared as a council chamber; and Dumbledore had related to them about the Clan and Draco's powers, forgetting intently the part he suspected Bill played in it. He would have to talk to the young man himself before informing his hot-blooded parents and brothers. Ginny had been let under Madame Pomfrey's care, after they were reassured no one else could harm her.

"So the ferret is Slytherin's heir after all," Commented Fred.

"He really talked to you this way? I would have punch his face!" Added George.

"And you would have worsened the problem," Reproached Professor McGonagall. "What I would like to know is: who is this professor Cast? When he came for the teacher's job, he seemed perfect to me."

"And he is," Maintained the Headmaster, looking subtly at Bill who was sited next to her, "Atus Cast is a fine teacher. I will explain it one more time: the Clan isn't our enemy, not for now. Arthur and Molly, if you want to save your daughter, you would better put your differences aside. You will need the help of a Slytherin, at a time or another."

"By the way, professor, why don't we simply go and ask Draco?" Inquired Harry, "He accepted to help Ron last time." As he finished his sentence, he regretted it.

"What do you call him?" Interrogated Mrs Figg, eyebrows raised.

"The right way," cut in Dumbledore, "Harry is befriending Slytherins as some of you should do. Myself would like to have Severus back. I lack his conversation and Slytherinish point of view. What you say is true Harry, still it was before his house was invaded and himself menaced of prison..." He let the end in suspense.

"We should try nonetheless, see if that can help Ginny," Insisted Bill.

Harry glanced at his friend's brother, as to say something but shut back his mouth. Dumbledore eyed the young man carefully. 'Of course, you wouldn't let your sister be harmed.' "Fine then. I don't see any reason not to let you. Since I don't think Draco will be very inclined into hearing your parents out right now, you should go along with Harry and Ron to talk to him. Moreover, you will be taken to the dungeons by Remus and Moody. As you all noticed, already three students were attacked: Ron, then Harry and Ginny. I also have strong suspicions that some Slytherins were assaulted yet I cannot be sure."

This time, as Harry's eyes lit, Dumbledore didn't let go of the hint. "Yes Harry?"

"Hum," the Gryffindor had apparently not intended to voice out his thoughts, "Two things. The first, when I was in the dungeons, three weeks ago, I was going to go out and get back to the dorms when Draco hold me back, saying it could be dangerous to be out at night. He said I could get killed. The second dates from when Ron was attacked. I had asked of he knew the culprit and his answer was 'not exactly, but I know the spell and the antidote'. That's all."

"And what about this thing wandering in the castle, this shadow?" Recalled Figg, "Couldn't it be that which attack them?"

"That is a possibility," admitted the headmaster. "I requested of Seamus Finnigan to place a creation of his in all corridors. If something had emitted even the slightest noise in a perimeter of ten meters around one of his tracers, it would have been detected and followed. Still, the shadow, even if discerned by his characteristic wind sound, couldn't be tracked down. But for now, our priority is to be Ginny. Remus, I'd like to have a word with you before you depart."

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

First: Harry and Mad-eye, then the two Weasley brothers and finally himself. In this order were advancing toward the Slytherin dungeons, not knowing what they would find. Had the students come back from Malfoy Manor already or would they be out for another few hours? The parents' letter had asked for 'a night out', so their children were allowed out till the rising of the sun.

Remus remembered his discussion with Dumbledore. Was the old man right? Could have Bill pact with the Malfoys? Of course, when hearing this, it seemed absurd, yet what did they know about the young man? He'd been gone to Egypt for years when they had only heard of him occasionally or seen of during his holidays. When he'd been transferred to the Londoner section of Gringotts, he'd frequently come to the Order's meeting. Then Charlie had disappeared and Bill had put all his efforts in bringing down the dark lord. Of all the Weasley family, Bill had suffered the worst: Charlie and him had always been so close. How many times had they been seen, younger, plotting together and telling themselves secrets. They were the eldest Weasleys. When Charlie had gone to Romania, Bill had visited him more than once, and when finally settling down in Egypt, his brother had reversed the roles. Almost like twins, still they were so different. But April had come and suddenly, Hell had broken loose for Molly Weasley.

The poor woman had looked at her third son betraying his family, then her first getting marked on the death list, her second son mourning and working himself to death. She had endured everything. She had not been prepared for the distance Bill would take from them. His mind was elsewhere, his thoughts wandering, he got out in the evening and came back in the morning. She had consoled herself by imagining he had some romance, yet had been deceived when confronting him. Charlie was in his mind. What had happened? What secret did Bill know that they ignored?

The company stopped; they had arrived to the dungeons without encountering danger.

"Does someone knows the password?" asked Mad-eye.

"Millennium," Informed Moody, having been told by Dumbledore some minutes before.

The portrait door opened and they entered. Cast and Zabini were playing chess in front of the fire, observed by the Bloody Baron. They stopped when the ghost spotted the intruders to them.

"So, you're finally here? I wondered when you'd show up," Commented the Slytherin student.

"You were waiting for us?" Inquired Moody, suspicious.

"Of course. What with the Weasley girl case, some of you were bound to come. Cast?" He turned to the teacher.

Atus was watching Bill, and their eyes were discussing alone. At last, Cast sighed, "It may be time, after all."

Did that made sense?

"We came to see Draco," explained Harry.

"He's not here. He'll be back before the break of dawn," answered Zabini, "Baron, you stay here and look after the children. Awake Pansy if need is. Cast, let's go with them."

"Why going? I'd rather say it here," Almost whined Cast.

"If you want to reveal it, then at least make it properly," Reproached the student.

"Boy, I hate insinuations. You will explain here and now. I also do not like the way you talk to your teacher," Cut in Mad-eye, his false eye glowering at Zabini.

"And I suggest you take back those words, old man. Let me remind you who needs who in this. Yes, Cast, I know," he added at a movement of the teacher's lips, "Let's go then, and no more menacing, or we stop everything."

Not understanding a thing, they went back the inverse way they had come. Cast and Bill were walking first, close to the point of touching, like old friends, and Remus could scent the need of touch raising of their bodies. Could they be lovers? No, for he would smell interactions in their odours. What, then? And what would the young man reveal when arriving at the Room of Requirement? So many secrets, and yet so few answers. One among the others was: what had happened to Narcissa Malfoy? The woman had mysteriously disappeared two days after Charlie had. The family had formally mourn for her, yet without feeling. Surely they knew something. The Order's conclusion had been that Voldemort was unhappy about something Lucius had done and had killed her in retaliation, but never had Severus heard anything from the death-eaters that could confirm it. And now, Draco was revealed the Slytherin heir. Why had he done nothing to avenge his mother? So many mysteries...

Bill opened he door to the Room of Requirement.

"Where is Malfoy?" Asked Figg when they were all sitting.

"He's not at the castle yet. You'll have to wait. We're here for other matters," Answered Zabini unkindly. Remus felt the young one's hate of the woman. Of course, she had been the professor of Defence Against the Dark Arts during their sixth year and had been particularly harsh on the Slytherins. Figg fumed, but Dumbledore beckoned her to calm down.

"Fine. What do you want?" Inquired the headmaster calmly.

Cast coughed slightly to catch their attention and looked quickly in Arthur and Molly's direction. "I have some things to tell you."

Silence had fallen. The two addressed ones had surprised faces, and Dumbledore's attention was rising, his interest aroused.

Cast took a small flask out of a pocket, only added "I am deeply sorry for everything," And drank.

Then, before their eyes, his features changed, his skin darkening. Eyes from blue to brown and hair from black to red, there stood Charlie Weasley.

Many mouths were gaping and the faces of those who weren't had the same expression they would have if they had been. When Dumbledore had told him his suspicions, had he thought of this? Two false teachers in three years of distance, that ought to be a record. How come they hadn't detect it? Easy. No one had ever seen Atus Cast. Where was the real one? More importantly: how could Charlie be alive? Hadn't he been captured by Voldemort?

"Charlie?" Tempted Molly with a tiny voice.

"Yes mum. It's me," The young replied hesitantly.

"How?" began darkly her husband, "How could you let us in this pain! When you were alive! How could..."

"Arthur! Shut up!"

To Remus's surprise, it wasn't Dumbledore but Molly that had spoken. The woman was crying her eyes out of joy. She went to her son and clasped him in her arms, apparently gripping him tightly enough to kill him.

"Weasley! Breathe."

All in the room jumped at the new voice except Dumbledore whose eyes twinkled. "Mr Malfoy. We were waiting for you."

"Malfoy!" Arthur had come back to his senses when the blond had addressed him. "What did you do to my son?"

The young man took the time to sit at a chair that had appeared from nowhere, thanks to the powers of the Room.

"First thing: I do no like people menacing me. Sit back. All of you."

Reluctantly, the Weasleys agreed, surely reminding they needed the boy. Molly had to let go of her son who joined Bill and Draco, satisfying mildly this need to be close to his brother. Figg and Mad-eye had to be glared at by Dumbledore to execute themselves.

"Tell me, Weasley, do you like puzzles?"

"What? What sort of question is that?!!" Nearly shouted Arthur, red with anger. Zabini laughed up his sleeves, ostensibly knowing what Malfoy mentioned.

"I asked you a question," Calmly repeated the young man, crossing his arms and legs. Arthur calmed enough to answer negatively.

"Then stop accusing. I spared you the difficult task of a bodily one."

Arthur looked at his eldest son, realisation in his eyes. His teeth cracked and his fists closed as he stared at the ground. "I suppose I should thank you then." This ought to have been hard to say. He, that had always hated the Malfoys, suddenly found himself needing them to save his only daughter and thanking one of them for rescuing his first son.

"Let's say I won't impose this task on you. The fact you remotely thought of it is enough to my ego," smiled Malfoy, "Blaise! I had told you to wait for me," He blamed.

"Yes," agreed the Slytherin, "but you added this would bore you."

Draco smirked, "You, I know why I keep you at my side."

"How did you come upon Charlie?" Requested Harry, interrupting boldly any further dialogue.

Malfoy turned to the green-eyed boy and smiled to him, "Pure hazard. I went to Voldemort for my father and came upon him. Another question? Ask what you want now, when I'm in a good mood. You won't have this chance next time. I reserve myself the right not to answer some of them, though."

"Will you help us save Ginny?" Pleaded Molly with begging eyes. It was obvious her opinion of the Malfoys had radically changed at the news of his first son being alive. Wonderful news it seems to be to Dumbledore, for the old man observed the present ones interacting with a smiling face.

"Truly, I do not want to help her. I'd use my magic, but and I don't want to..." All faces were blank and Charlie's eyes were imploring. Draco tended his hand to touch the red hair in a kind gesture, surprising everyone in the room, especially when the young man caressed the hand with his head. "But! I'd like to see you smile, for a change. Plus, that would get on the junk's nerves. So I'll do it."

Sighs of relief filled the air and the mood lightened again.

- - - - - - - - - - - - -

"I have some questions of my own, if you would agree."

"Dumbledore... Well, ask, I'll improvise."

"First: what did you do with the potion?"

"The potion? The one from the vaults, you mean? I modified it and drank it."

"You drank it?" The headmaster repeated, dumbfounded, "It was a potentially dark brewing..."

'How could he have drunk that? Well, he said he modified it. Still, this ought to have drained his body and mind... Oh, I remember. So that was why you were so ill ten days ago. You sure are quick to recover,' Thought the old man.

"Yes," the boy grinned, "but it was a pretty good investment."

"Fine, if you say," Dumbledore said, resigned, "Second: where is Severus?"

Charlie coughed when Bill and Zabini smirked and Draco seemed amused, "He's at the Manor. Won't be back before a time. Some problems to settle, you see?"

Dumbledore's eyes rounded just enough for Moony to catch it, 'At the manor? Lucius forgave him? And what with the faces? Oh... Hum. How could I forget? Of course. I had thought this relation had stopped long ago. Well, it seems it didn't. Let's close the subject. Severus has enough reproach motives against me as it is.' "Yes, I see. Hum. Third: where did you master Transcendental Magic?"

"Ah! That question shall I not answer. Little secret of mine. You don't mind?"

'It would have been too perfect if he had answered...' "No. Should we take care of Ginny, now?"

Draco pouted as only a spoiled child could, "Fine! I'll do it! Let's go then, I'd like to have some sleep after it."

Dumbledore's lips curved. "We're going Saturday, you'll have plenty of time to sleep through the morning," He told the boy, amused.

"Yeah," Spoke Draco ironically as he got up and left, followed by almost everyone, "And during the time, you'll send the old harpy to take points off Slytherin. Where is she, by the way?"

'The old harpy?' "If you mean Minerva, she's currently sleeping."

"Sleeping? You see! You sent her resting for her to be in good form today!"

The headmaster was enjoying himself: this boy, who had menaced them not two hours ago was now sulking like a five year old. Turning his head slightly, he caught sight of Harry's grin. As for the Weasleys, including Charlie and Bill, who were surely not anymore used to this childish side of the young man than the others, they were making signs that clearly indicated Draco was mental.

They arrived at the infirmary, Poppy got out to warn them not to make any noise and Malfoy turned to Zabini, "Blaise, you go up. I'll join you soon, this won't take long."

'Ah. Back to the serious tone...' thought Dumbledore.

The Slytherin inclined the head to show his approbation, and went away. "From the moment I enter to the moment I am out, I don't want any of you in there," he showed the infirmary's door, "You would interfere the process."

"You're a magus?!" exclaimed Harry.

"Me? No..." Draco smiled again, "Even my powers have some limits. A friend of mine is coming."

'Decidedly, that is seduction or my name is not Albus. One more thing to take care of: Harry not getting hurt. Or do I let him deal with it first? I'd rather let things evolve a little before intervening, in case there is no reason to fear for him. This year, Draco may reveal himself as a kind one and maybe even on our side, but he still is a dangerous opponent, master of dark magic, and what with this perfect comedy he played till now, I can't be sure. When and where did I begin to underestimate you, boy?'

"Ah! He's there," Indicated Draco with non-dissimulated enthusiasm.

Coming through a wall, was the Bloody Baron. All eyes opened wide. "You're a magus?!!" Charlie was amazed at.

"Seems like so. Didn't suspect, huh, boy?"

The twins' ears stirred. It was the first time they had ever heard the Baron talk to someone this way, what to add when this someone was a Gryffindor, and their own brother no less.

"Let's go then," Ordered Draco, and boy and ghost entered, immediately closing the door, under the anxious stares of the Weasley family.

After some minutes, when it was obvious they would know nothing of what was happening inside, Dumbledore turned to Charlie, "Why don't you explain a little, while he's in there?" He kindly asked. For what Draco had accepted to reveal and what he'd understand by himself, Charlie had gone through a lot under Voldemort's hands, and was deeply indebted to Draco.

"Yes, I'd like to know why you work with the ferr... with him," Quickly rectified Fred, clearly holding back his anger and reproaches.

"Fine," sighed his brother, surrendering, "I'll tell you." He sat on the floor, soon joined by Bill, who showed the most beautiful brotherhood spirit Dumbledore had ever see. These two ones would have done absolutely everything for one another, even if that included losing their entire family in the process. The headmaster conjured chairs for everyone, who were not surprised by this display of magic as they were all used to demonstrations of the great wizard's power.

"It was the beginning of the school holidays and almost Christmas. I was planning to come back to England for the end of the year when, the day before my depart, the dark lord attacked the dragon reserve. Death-eaters killed almost everyone, and took some of us, 'to play', they said. That was when He recognised me, or rather suspected who I was. He changed his plans... tortured me for days... He wanted to send me back in pieces when he'd have been finished..."

Charlie was looking only at the floor, evoking his harsh memories. Dumbledore felt pity for the young, another victim of Voldemort's madness.

"I had passed out one more time when I awoke in Malfoy Manor. Draco had gone to Voldemort for his father, and had taken me from the dark lord at the same time. I owe him my life and sanity..."

_He couldn't sleep. The recent events were playing round and round in his head. Draco Malfoy had defied Voldemort. What secret was behind this behaviour? He'd been engaged by someone they always thought destined to a death-eater career. He was to work with Lucius Malfoy of all people, and to do no less than spy on Dumbledore? Was he getting mad to accept such job? And Draco had saved him! Charlie Weasley! The son of a man that had tried to bring his family down for years! Why?! _

_The darkness of the night enveloped his room, this beautiful apartment that had been attributed to him for as long as he would need. The furniture of this single room ought to cost more than the whole Burrow. He was so tired, yet his eyes didn't want to close. The fear had a hold on him. _

_Hours passed, and sleep finally won over him. His mind wandered to his family, to Bill. How was Bill? His little brother would be devastated at the news of his death. If only he could spare him the dolour... He would give everything. His little brother, almost his twin, the one he shared his soul with. He would find a way to tell him. Anything would do. With this good resolution in mind, he awoke._

_"I'm delighted to see you're better, little Weasley."_

_**This part contained dark materials, and a rape scene. I deleted it. If you really want the completed fic, sent me a mail at **_

_A hand caressed his hair, slowly and kindly, and he could only cry more. A piece of cloth sponged up his sweat. Through the diminishing steam, he noticed concerned blue eyes. Suspicious, he looked around. He was in his small room, in Malfoy Manor._

_"You had a nightmare," Explained Draco, as to reassure him it was nothing more than a horrible dream. This particular night, it was, but it hadn't always been like that. The memories still all too clear in his mind, he pressed fingers on his forehead._

_"They won't go away like this, you know," A voice fondled the silence._

_Charlie sighed profoundly in his closed hands. "I know, yet I still hope."_

_He felt a figure moving on the blankets and saw Draco take place near his own body. "Wha..."_

_He couldn't say more as the blonde carefully laid and dandled him. There was so much warmth in these strong arms, they radiated fondness and care. "I am no child," He faintly resisted. _

_"I know," was the kind reply, "and I do not consider you so." But the boy didn't let go of him._

_Abandoning a fight that never really began, Charlie cuddled up to the young's body, wondering where went the thirteen years that separated them._

_During the next days, many nights did he awoke, and as many nights did he dropped off to sleep again in the protective arms._

_An evening, as he was scanning the sky for non-existent dragons, Draco had showed up and sat next to him. For a long time had they remained silent, enjoying the howl of the wintry wind. _

_"You'll see them again, not immediately, but soon."_

_The blonde was staring at him, kindness in the eyes. Charlie knew who he talked about without the need of mentioning, "I know, but what will they think of me when learning about my treason?"_

_"Treason? You're helping them there. If our methods are different, our aims will come back to the same action: bring down Voldemort. The man may be thinking otherwise and hoping for a collaboration of all Slytherins, but I won't let them sink. He did enough harm to my house's reputation. It may be time to show the world who Salazar Slytherin was really like..."_

_"Why do you let me loose? I am a Gryffindor, and a Weasley. Why wouldn't I escape from here?"_

_He wanted, and needed to know what was on Malfoy's mind, this strangeness he sensed whenever he was near him, the perception of someone that was in full control of this situation._

_The younger one smirked, "You couldn't if you tried. Besides, the moment I saw you in the forest, you pleased me. I knew you could be trusted. Would you deceive me?"_

_"You trust me?" It was the strangest thing he had ever heard. Draco Malfoy, trusting Charlie Weasley. _

_"What do you want me to say? I have a soft spot for sexy young men," Draco slightly shrugged at the revelation of this weakness of his._

_The crude words increased Charlie's bad feeling, "Why didn't and don't you take advantage, then? I own you that at least." There was no bitterness in his voice, he was speaking open-heartedly, looking at the ground. He couldn't admit it was him making such a proposition. To carry such a life debt was frightening. Gentle fingers raised his chin._

_"Do you think so low of me as to think I would take an unwilling one to my bed?"_

_Draco was smiling at him with tiredness on his face. Such regard. How old was the boy? It couldn't be possible he was only sixteen years old. His eyes looked like they had already seen so much. Sometimes, his expression was the one of an old man, reminding Charlie of Dumbledore._

_"I may be praising a harsh politic but I do not like such displays of primitive violence. Voldemort is in the wrong on this."_

_Charlie reddened at the unsaid reproach, "I'm sorry. I didn't thing mean of you, I just..."_

_"I know," interrupted the kind voice softly, "No need for excuses, there was no offence taken."_

_The red-hair man still bowed the head to prove he cared, and appreciated the comprehension. _

He stopped his narration. He had purposefully missed out in his relation of the events all that touched to sex, in both action and speech. No need to worry and burden them further. He was fine, now, had overcome the memories, thanks to the Malfoy family, the Baron, and Bill. To leave them out of reach would prove better for everyone.

His public had listened carefully to every word, ashamed of the anger they had felt for their friend and brother when he had suffered this much. Who were they to blame him for taking shelter where he found it?

"Hum," beckoned Harry, "I have a question of my own, if you don't mind it."

As Charlie didn't reply and waited for him to go on, "It's been some time now that I wonder: what happened to Draco's mother?"

Rustles indicated Harry wasn't the only one interested by the matter, but before the red-hair could answer...

- - - - - - - - - - -


	11. Chapter 10 : A thousand years of waiting...

"She's dead. Let her rest in the peace she does not deserve."

Harry turned toward the voice. Draco had emerged from the Infirmary, closely followed by the Bloody Baron. Harry blushed at his indiscretion, still he Gryffindorishly insisted, "Voldemort killed her?"

Draco sighed profoundly, eyes underlined by black bags. The ritual of calling for a magus certainly wasn't a simple one, and the boy, however strong he was, had every right to be tired.

"If you prefer it this way, then let's say he killed her. Indirectly he did..." The blonde took some steps toward the Gryffindor, and caught gently a brown lock of hair. "Less the hair, you look so much alike... I wonder if the centaurs had seen you in the stars. And why did they see him? What had he done wrong, Asmodeus, for them to deprive him of his nature?"

None understanding a thing, they didn't utter a word, but Dumbledore waited for the one called to answer. Draco seemed so exhausted, beyond any tiredness of the body. Whatever had taken place in the Infirmary, his mind had gone through a bad time. As no one replied, the boy turned to the ghost.

If the Baron ever was considered pale, the colour he had reached at this point was more than transparent. His face exposed his own fatigue. He looked almost sadly over the young man, and silently mouthed two words: "He lived".

They stared at each other for some time more, no person in the corridor daring interfering.

"I'm tired. This may have been too much in one evening. I'll rest a little."

And Draco went away.

"I suggest you also go to sleep," counselled the ghost to Charlie, "You would not want to be asleep on your feet when your sister wakes in the morning."

The red-hair nodded and left them, along with Bill. Letting their questions in abeyance, all went to sleep.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - -

**Saturday, October the 31st **

Harry awoke in his bed and discovered the sun already high in the sky. Glancing at his watch that laid on his night-table, he abruptly got up. It was two P.M.! Turning his head toward the other bed, he noticed all were empty. He quickly showered, dressed and finally went down the stairs.

The common room was in uproar. Tonight was the Halloween's feast! They were allowed to stay up past midnight. Walking some steps more, he came upon his favourite friends' group. Among them, Neville was hugging Ginny. Harry saluted everyone.

"Well, you seemed to sleep well, mate. Couldn't wake you to go and see Ginny in the Infirmary," related Ron.

Harry smiled bitterly, embarrassed.

"Do not worry, Harry," Ginny kindly spared Harry, "I do not mind. They narrated me all your yesterday's adventures. For my part, I remember nothing. Dumbledore thinks Malfoy erased my memories."

"Really?" he wondered," Why would he do that?"

He took place in a sofa, next to Seamus, which was playing with one of his tracers.

"We do not know. If you want, Dumbledore will have a talk with Snape soon. We may go and learn what he has to say," Informed the latter.

"And you, what do you have with your nut, you keep fiddling around with it since you got down," Remarked Ron.

"I am not fiddling with it," contradicted Seamus, "I'm trying to understand why it didn't followed the Shadow."

"Oh... That's right Dumbledore asked you to detect it," remembered Harry, "So? Any idea?"

"Truly, yes. A thin one, but it's still a lead. I think Shadow is immaterial, or rather can become immaterial. That explains how he can attack students and disappear so quickly after."

"Attack?" Harry was surprised, "You think it's him which attack us?"

All looked at him, Hermione a glint in her eyes.

"Who else could it be? He has all the characteristics," pleaded Ron, "Plus, Dumbledore is suspicious about him."

'Well. That's right there are many coincidences. But didn't he saved me? Or does he want to kill me? The question is 'What is he?'. Is he really a dark creature, or rather... I'll have to talk to Draco about him,. See if he reacts,' thought the green-eyedyoung man. He nodded in understanding at his friends.

"If you want to hear Snape out, I suggest we go now, they won't wait for us," Advised Hermione.

Catching the hint, they all got up and headed for Dumbledore's office. As Harry's stomach was rumbling, they made a detour by the kitchens.

Finally passing the Gargoyle, they emerged in the headmaster's office. He was alone.

"I wondered if you would show up. I guess I have my answer," the old man said, "Severus isn't here yet. Remus went and searched for him. They shouldn't be long. Please seat."

"By the way," Harry asked Ron, "where are your parents and brothers?"

"They went home after having the confirmation Ginny was well. Only Bill stayed with Cha... Cast," He said reprovingly.

"Do they know?" He inquired in a small tone, directing his head toward Ginny, Seamus and Dean.

Ron nodded. "We told them this morning. They seemed happy."

"You still haven't forgiven him?" He went on asking in the same tone, keeping an eye on the others, verifying they weren't listening.

His friend frowned, "Oh yes, I have. After all he went through. I mean, he told us the dark lord tortured him, and I know my brother: he isn't one to admit dolour easily, what with his work and all. For him to have this... expression on his face... and in his eyes... Merlin, I can't imagine what happened... I'm not sure I want to know."

By the end of his speech, Ron was pale. Harry took his best friend's hand and squeezed it.

They couldn't say anything more as Snape and Remus entered the office.

Noticing the students, the potion master sighed, "You're vain, Albus."

The mentioned smiled, "I know but I am too old to change."

The two teachers sat. "Fine. Ask, I'll see if I can answer."

"By 'can', you mean?" Asked a new voice.

"Minerva. What a pleasure. Please, take a seat. One more or one less, who cares?" Snape hissed with sarcasm.

"I can't take points off your Slytherins, thanks to your protégé, and I have to entertain myself," Replied McGonagall.

Students observed the verbal exchanged, unmoved, used to the sparring between the two teachers.

Snape fumed in his seat. "By 'can', I mean what I may say without putting what is left of me in danger."

"I was not aware Mr Malfoy could go to such ends," Dumbledore murmured.

Snape eyed the man with care and sighed again, "Let's be straightforward. This night, Draco was declared an outcast by Voldemort."

Dumbledore frowned, "So their war has begun."

"No. It begun long ago. When Draco went for his father, there was an altercation, one Lucius does not want to talk about. No one knew about it in Voldemort's ranks. Later, he went again for Graham Pritchard. At this time, I stopped going to the meetings and I don't know much, but from what I heard, death-eaters were running away out of the fear to be caught in the fight."

"Was he wounded?" Inquired Harry at the memory of a Draco in a bad day.

The professor mildly glared at him, apparently also blaming him for the happenings of this very night. "No. The state he was in wasn't due to one of Voldemort's spells," he seemed to hesitate going on, "He had many organs blown off. I think he tried to morph into his animagus form. I don't know if he succeeded. Nonetheless, what with the gravity of his injuries, it would mean he had never only tried the exercises required to master the animal form."

"It would be madness! No one would even think of it!" Shouted McGonagall.

"Except if he knew he had the ability to morph," Remarked Dumbledore.

The transfiguration teacher looked at the old man with round eyes, if only they had a camera...

"But you can't know if you never morphed, Albus! There is only two possibilities: if he trained to become an animagus, or if he naturally was one. In both cases, he would have had to master his animal form. Even fast learners have to pass by that case."

"That only means he knew he was an animagus, but had never morphed before. Does it exist a spell that can reveal if you're a natural?" asked Remus.

"No spell and no potion. If you're a natural, some parts of your body morph at times, but never the full body. You have to train to be able to use the morphing."

"Let's report the subject. I'd like to know some other things," interrupted Dumbledore, "Can you talk about last night?"

"On this part, we all have carte blanche. He does not mind," Assented Snape.

"Good. He knew the aurors would come?"

"This precise night, no. But Weasley had told him about the new captors around the Manor."

"Did you know about Bill?"

"No, Draco had openly talked to Cast about his brother but I hadn't made the connection."

"They accepted you back?"

"Seems like it."

"Where does the young one put his mark? It can't be on the same arm as Voldemort?" Asked Minerva, pensive.

"A mark?" Snape was astounded, "Draco isn't a slave-trader!"

"Hum," beckoned Dumbledore, "I think Minerva wonders if there is a tattoo of the Clan."

Snape calmed down, "Long ago, the tradition was to have a snake tattooed on the shoulder. It disappeared during the fifteenth century, when the Clan was discovered. No one cared, it had never been more than a recognition sign. Voldemort used the idea to create the Morsmordre but he's mad."

"Another thing: how do Slytherins recognise the heir?"

"By aura. Slytherins in mind feel the link with the heir."

"However you hadn't noticed it," Remarked Dumbledore.

"Because I worked with you. The heir can choose to reveal himself or not, and whom to."

"How long ago did he discovered he was the heir?"

"I don't know. He was aware of it half a year ago, for he went for his father. I think Lucius had already betrayed Voldemort and would have got killed. The dark lord wanted to gain Draco's support, knowing he wouldn't be able to gain the lower Slytherins to work with him if he opposed the new heir. That's why he didn't declared Lucius an outcast at the time."

"Is Draco a descendant of Slytherin?"

"I'm not sure. It wouldn't surprise me, with all they have in their blood..."

"What did you say? I thought the Malfoys were pure-blood," Exclaimed McGonagall.

Snape smirked as they had seen Draco do so many times, "It's so easy to notice you didn't grow up in a Slytherin family. Originally, pure-blood didn't mean you only had wizard blood but magical blood. Many creatures can be considered pure-blood, even if they aren't even wizard. There are particular conditions."

"And which 'particular' blood would they have?" Dumbledore asked.

"I don't know much and by all means, I am not allowed to answer."

That was the first question Snape refused.

"Fine. Did he was aware I would come at the Manor yesterday night?" continued Dumbledore, good loser.

"You personally, no, I don't think. He didn't say anything about you. Only aurors."

"Hum. What other question did I have? One should not grow old... Oh! I remember. I suppose Asmodeus is the Bloody Baron. How did Draco know his name?"

"Another thing I don't know," Sighed Snape.

"I note you don't know much," Observed McGonagall.

Snape gave her a piercing look, "Nobody knows much! And you know even less," He insisted on the 'you', stating if he wasn't wanted, he could go away and leave them to their pitiful ignorance.

"That is why we need you to enlighten us," Calmed Dumbledore, sending an admonishing look at the transfiguration teacher. "I have a last question, one Harry asked yesterday and wasn't answered."

"About what happened to Narcissa," Guessed Snape. To Harry's surprise, the sallow face of the potion master had gone as pale as a ghost. "That, I can't answer; and you don't want to ask."

Dumbledore observed his old friend during a long time, searching into the depths of his mind what could terrify him so, for it certainly wasn't common to see this man in such a scared state.

"Well, I have nothing more to ask," Concluded the headmaster.

"I have two other questions," Raised Harry.

Snape sighed again, this time in exasperation and waited.

"Yesterday, Draco said precisely 'By all means, I am in no mood to go on. I've had enough of this masquerade. Lucius! Make them go before I kill'. I remember clearly. Would he really have killed us?"

The teacher gave a chuckle, thing they didn't know him capable of, "You, no. Dumbledore either. Some aurors probably, he has a grudge against Mad-Eye, but you had already realised it."

"The second is: How can Draco be a descendant of Slytherin if he doesn't speak Parlestongue?"

Snape smiled in earnest, "That, is a good question. If only you could be as attentive in my class!"

'Has he gone mad? Complimenting me truly isn't like him...' thought Harry, 'Well. Maybe it's time to make peace. I'll see to that later.'

Captivated and attracted by the good will and interest the ex-Order's member put in the simple question, all ears were pricked up.

"A thousand years ago," began Snape, "Salazar Slytherin had two sons. To each of them, he gave a Libra, a symbol of the Clan. They were to be transmitted to the first-born son and if they hadn't any, to the first son of the daughter. To command the Clan, one had to possess the blood and a Libra. It happened two heirs raised at the same time, but one always dominated over the other. In the seventeen century, one of the Libra was destroyed during a fight between the two actual heirs. Voldemort possessed the other, and still has it for the death-eaters would abandon him if not. Yet, during the ceremony yesterday night, Draco had one also."

Snape let his words sink into his listener's brains. "The strangeness is: this Libra wasn't Voldemort's. They may be differentiated by the colour of the snake's eyes. So, that means Salazar hadn't two but three acknowledged sons!"

"But the third would never have been mentioned in books," Finished Dumbledore.

"Exactly! What could have cornered Slytherin into hiding one of his sons, particularly one he had acknowledged as such? And how could this son somehow be related to the Malfoys?"

"But the Parlestongue matter?" Recalled Harry.

"I'll come to it. During the ceremony, Draco hadn't the traditional snake embroidered robe; his had a dragon on the back."

"You mean he would be... dracken-tongue?"

Snape nodded.

"I wonder Severus: you said you should worry over what you have the right to reveal. Didn't you just say too much?" Observed McGonagall.

"... Draco is planning an alliance with the Order."

Silence followed.

"Truly? To say I thought he didn't even envisioned it," Admitted Dumbledore.

"He does. That's why I can tell you what you want about the Clan. He considers a good union can only be set up with truthfulness."

'An alliance? He wants an alliance? That's wonderful news! Together we'll bring Voldemort down!'

"Not now," continued Snape, "but soon, it will be needed. There are some minor problems to settle before but not much. Don't ask me about it, I know nothing," he added before any of the present people could question. "I also have a message for Potter."

Harry faced the man, wondering why Draco had transmitted missive through the professor, rather than coming himself.

"Midnight, Great Hall. That's all," Recounted Snape

'During the feast?! What could he want then?' wondered Harry, grinning, 'That looks like a date, except there will be so many people.'

"Hum. As some of you may have noticed, it's already five in the evening. Shouldn't you all go and prepare maybe?"

Dumbledore glanced specially at Harry who blushed darkly, and students and teachers went away, except ...

"Severus," beckoned the headmaster, "How is Lucius?"

The potion master smirked, "He's well enough, what with the raid and all."

"I wonder... about Narcissa..."

"Albus," called Snape with familiarity and a serious frown, "Trust me on this, please. There are some things best left unsaid."

"Fine," dropped Dumbledore, all the more pleased that his old friend still seemed to have some affection for him, "I won't ask you again. May you come for tea on some days or would that be too much for your Slytherin reputation?" He asked without the least trace of contempt but some hint of humour.

Severus smiled so slightly, yet visibly, "Draco doesn't like disobedience and hates treason, but he has nothing against someone as long as this one doesn't tamper with him. If only you could try to know him more, Albus, you would see you're very much alike. He holds you in great regard, even if he doesn't voice it out."

As it happened only in exceptional occasions, Dumbledore was at a loss for words, 'Draco Malfoy? Having regard for me? I knew he hated me, despised me, mocked me, and now...'

It was one of this moments that are bound to occur when two so powerfully armed beings, both of them superior by strength of body and spirit, appear in the same time and place. To learn your counterpart respects you is the higher reward, and a smile of contentment puckered Dumbledore's lips.

- - - - - - - - - - - -

Night-time had fallen on Hogwarts. Harry had chosen a black velvet robe, black pants also, above a dark green cotton shirt. It brought out his eyes, Hermione said.

The noise in the room should have been unbearable, but he didn't hear it, as he was drowned in his thoughts. The feast began at eight and would last long into the night. Catching up with Ron that waited for him, they joined Hermione in the Common Room and departed.

The Great Hall was as splendid as every year. Candles were floating above the students' heads, sculpted pumpkins decorated the tables and all that could be wished in children dreams was disposed in sumptuous dishes.

As they entered, Harry immediately spotted Draco. The blonde was talking with Cast and Bill. What was Bill still doing in the castle? Dumbledore came to meet them.

"Good evening, Harry," Saluted the old man.

"Good evening, professor. What is Bill doing here?"

"Bill? I proposed to him to assist at the feast. As you know, the Slytherins appreciate him, a Gryffindor of a Gryffindor family. If this show of fraternity could bring the houses together, I would be very pleased. I also deeply appreciated the efforts you made to close the gap."

"Thank you. But I did it mostly for myself," Recalled Harry.

"Such selfishness should be more common, then. I let you to enjoy the feast: Minerva is calling for me. I won't make her wait, a harpy is dangerous when annoyed, would say Mr. Malfoy."

Harry looked at the old man retreat with a grin. Was that amusement and kindness he had seen in his eyes when speaking about Draco? By the way, Draco was... Smiling at him. While sitting at his usual place, next to Ron, Harry reciprocated the act. At Draco's right was Blaise then Pansy and at his left Cast then Bill. Nobody seemed to mind the presence of a teacher at a students' table. On the inverse, many were whispering about Bill. There was no doubt such as his identity: his hair's colour had denounced him. What was he doing at the Slytherin's table? Had he lost his mind? Why were the teachers letting such a treason happen under their noses? Murmurs were soon turning into hisses, and Draco did nothing to stop them.

The sound of a small bell reasoned and all turned to Dumbledore.

"Ah! Another Halloween at Hogwarts. I don't know you but I craved all year for pumpkin cake. I simply can't resist. This softness that melts on the tongue, and this funny colour... Hum, well... I'll stop now or some of you will call me gaga again." He sent a perceptive glance at Draco who sent it back tranquilly. "As gossip remains a Hogwarts speciality, I suppose the full school is aware of the night's events. No?" He added at a lack of reactions. "That's strange. Children, are you sick?" he asked with concern. "You have to know, that is the first time since long ago that I am going to announce an event that is unknown to more than half the school. This is a beautiful night!" He proclaimed happily. "Well, I have the pleasure and honour to thank the Slytherin house, and particularly Mr. Malfoy and the Bloody Baron, for the saving of Miss Virginia Weasley."

It took time for the words to immerse in the brains. Harry smiled. In all his seven years in Hogwarts, never had he heard Dumbledore thank or compliment the Slytherin house. Draco sure had a way to turn things to his advantage.

The headmaster went on again, "And now, tidwit..."

"... Heath, glue and coloribon." Interrupted Draco, "We already know you're senile, Dumbledore. No need to deepen our feeling."

The first moment of stupefaction passed, everyone that had learned not to underestimate Draco in the past days erupted into laughs. The others followed.

"What does coloribon mean?" Asked Dumbledore, dumbfounded.

Draco eyed him with stupefaction, "Because what you usually say have a meaning?"

"Well, no. I only say the four first words that come to my mind," The headmaster recognised.

"I did the same. Coloribon was among them," Concluded Draco.

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled, "Happy feast, then. Let's eat!"

"I don't know how they could hate each other," said Ron, sweets in the mouth, "They're both doddering."

"Eccentric, Ron. They sure aren't senile, that is for sure," Corrected Hermione.

"Well, well. Isn't it my favourites Gryffindors?"

"What do you want, Peeves?" Inquired Harry.

"Well, I came to tell you a secret," The poltergeist revealed.

"A secret?" Gryffindors were coming close, interested by the word.

"Yes, a secret," Repeated Peeves.

"No secret coming from you could be of any information," Cut Harry.

"You thing? Even if it concern Malfoy?" Bid higher the poltergeist.

Harry's ear twisted at the name, "Say it then."

Peeves giggled, "I thought it couldn't touch you... Well, I'll say it nonetheless. An hour ago, as you were all preparing for the feast, Malfoy, Cast and the older Weasley went out the castle and came back... guess what?"

His interest aroused by the news, Harry urged the poltergeist to go on. "They were carrying a big trunk."

"A trunk? What would they do with a trunk?" Wondered the Gryffindors.

"That, I don't know. But when on the way to the Slytherin dungeons, they passed Dumbledore and Snape, the old gaga asked, 'This is the surprise you talked about? What is there inside?' and Malfoy only answered by a smirk and, 'Something that will raise both happiness and fear.' The gaga seemed to catch the hint for he went away smiling."

The Gryffindor table was silent. "Both happiness and fear? It is not a surprise if it is horrible," Commented Ron.

'Both happiness and fear? As Ron says, it can't be a surprise if it is horrible. What can it be?'

What had the blonde imagined again? What would happen at midnight? So many surprises in only one day of time. First, the Snake's Clan. Then Draco being Slytherin's heir. By the way...

"Peeves, do you know when is Draco's birthday?" Harry asked.

"His birthday? What do you want to do with his birthday? Oh, that's right, it's soon... It's on the second of November."

So they could really have been celebrating his birthday yesterday night. Where had Draco learnt to master transcendental magic? When had he become so powerful? What had transformed him so? As Snape had said, that had begun before or during their sixth year. What had happened at that time? Some months before, there was the Battle of the Department of Mysteries. There, his father had been caught, then released. Why had he been released by the way? Because there was traces of an Imperius on him, that's right. After that event, Draco hadn't been heard again. He had shut up during the ending ceremony.

'I always thought it was due to his father getting almost sent to Azkaban but could it be he already had changed at that point? What secret are you hiding, Draco? Does your father even know about it? You commanded to him too, yesterday. Doesn't he mind? He never seemed the type to accept blindly orders to me. And what happened when you went to rescue Pritchard?'

Four hours were spent this way and midnight came without his realising it. As Dumbledore had previously said, secrets weren't Hogwarts' students' strong point. During the dinner, news had travelled about that 'surprise' that was to happen, and as the enormous grandfather clock rang in the Great Hall, all went silent. As the last gong echoed, Cast and Zabini, whom no-one had seen going out, entered back carrying what seemed to be the trunk Peeves had mentioned. They traversed the Hall and deposited their charge just in front the teachers' table, in full view of every student; then posted on each side, acting like guardians protecting a treasure.

"Well," began Draco, "I had hoped for a more... private ceremony."

Every student caught the hint, but all refused to move, or couldn't, glued on their chairs by curiosity. Harry wasn't even sure half the room had registered the sentence, as they were all contemplating the trunk.

Apparently giving up the idea of privacy, Draco got up smiling broadly, came directly at the Gryffindor table, without anyone only thinking of stopping him, and presented his arm to Harry. Under the eyes of all Hogwarts, the boy accepted the hand and was taken to the front of the room. Harry felt the stares on them. It was confusing and disturbing. Him, that had always fled from projectors, was voluntarily going under them. It looked like a bride at her marriage. Harry glanced at Dumbledore, who sent him back an unreadable look. The trunk was a common one, with a leaf on the top. It was closed.

Draco went in Harry's back and enlaced his waist from behind. The arms were strong and warm and Harry felt his muscled and mind relaxing. Draco's breath in his neck titillated him.

"Make a wish, Harry," Murmured the seductive blonde.

'A wish? I'd like this war to end, Voldemort to be dead, people to be happy, me to live in peace, you to proclaim your undying love for me,' Harry thought, 'I want people to cease disappearing, getting killed. I desire not to lose people I love again. That makes many, don't you think? But there is one that would please me most. I wish to feel joy.'

"Granted."

Cast and Zabini each caught a side of the leaf, and brutally opened the trunk.

"Ahhh! Malfoy! I'll kill you!!!"

Students screamed at the sudden apparition and some even fled the Hall.

Harry made to jumped backwards at the shout but was kept in place by Draco. "S... Sirius?" he said aghast.

The man, hair dishevelled, tired eyes, face unshaved, looked at him, rubbed his eyes and looked again. "Harry? What are you doing with Malfoy?"

'I think it is one of these moments in which people faint. Should I?' wondered the green-eyed young man. "Hum. He gives me a surprise," he explained, uncertain.

Behind him, Draco grinned to his ears, self-proud. "So, Black, not too rustled? You'll notice I chose a big trunk to take care of your old bones."

Sirius's teeth cracked. "You..." He took one foot out of the trunk to strangle the insolent blonde but stopped as a wand touched his neck.

"Take one more step, Black," menaced Zabini, "And you'll go back to where you would be without Draco."

"Please," beckoned Dumbledore, "Calm down, children."

At the authoritative voice, and a nod of Draco, Zabini let down the wand. The students' reactions were divided: a quarter cheered -mostly Gryffindors- , a half were horrified and fearful -mostly Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws, and the last quarter didn't care -mostly Slytherins-.

"Students!" shouted Draco who had turned back to face the Hall, "I have the pleasure to introduce to you Sirius Black, ex-Gryffindor and ex-Azkaban prisoner. I'll add he wasn't guilty of what the Ministry accused him of, even if he did committed some reprehensible acts in his youth. No need to flee, he won't eat you," He added for some that still doubted.

Harry witnessed Sirius ready to kill Draco again and Remus rushing to stop him. "You may want to continue the reunion somewhere more private?" Advised Draco.

Dumbledore smiled and smoothed his beard. "Children," he addressed the Hall, "It is indeed late in the night. Let's say the curfew will be at two in the morning." Many acclaimed, completely forgetting the Black episode. "Please, behave," The old man finished and disappeared with a trio of Gryffindors, a Slytherin, an ex-convict and a were-wolf.

- - - - - - - - - - - -

All settled in Dumbledore's office with warm cups of tea in hand, the discussion began.

"How did you escaped the death-eaters?" Harry asked after embracing Sirius.

The man glared at Draco who calmly sipped his tea, "I never saw death-eaters. I was running from the aurors and then nothing. I woke in Malfoy Manor, tied up and watched by Bill and his father," he said, indicating Malfoy with the eyes. "These three weeks were the worst of my life. Living with Malfoy! You imagine!" Harry grinned slightly. "Then yesterday, or I think it was yesterday, they put me in the trunk. That's all."

"May you enlighten us, Mr Malfoy?" Requested Remus, far too happy to find his last friend safe and sound to pay real attention to his complains.

"Easy," responded the boy, "Black heroically tried to steal dark parchments that I wanted and pitifully failed."

"Draco," softly scolded Harry, "I very much appreciate your surprise. It's wonderful. Yet, I'd like to know..."

Faced with the gentle smile and curiosity-filled eyes, the blonde couldn't resist, "Fine, fine. As you may remember from a previous conversation you had with Blaise, we spied on Dumbledore since the beginning of the year."

Harry nodded, recalling the awful night he'd spent in the dungeon.

"When he decided to send Black at Gringotts," went on Draco, "We were aware of it, and for my part, I sent Bill and Charlie to stop him."

"Charlie?" repeated Sirius, dumbfound, "Isn't he dead?"

"Cast is Charlie," quickly explained Remus, "Draco saved him from Voldemort."

"Really?" sarcastically commented Black, "Why would he do that?"

Dumbledore hesitated to make reproach at Sirius but waited to see what happened.

"As I narrated yesterday," finally answered Draco, ignoring the contempt, "I thought the boy was already dead when I went to Voldemort. To find him still alive was a surprise so I took him with me. Dumbledore will fill the gaps about the Clan. As I said, I sent Bill and Charlie to stop him. When they noticed the aurors, they went after them, and apparated with him. Seems like they avoided a massacre. After that, I didn't know what to make of you. Then Halloween came and I found it a good idea to animate the night. Plus, I find it funny to accumulate Gryffindors' life debts."

Sirius boiled at the 'animation' comment, "My debt goes to the Weasley brothers," He spat.

"So much loath..." pointed out Draco, "Calm down, you're gonna get an ulcer. Well, I have to go and sleep in order to be fit on Monday," he added getting up and going to the door, "Farewell."

"What should you be fit on Monday for, Malfoy? Other people to rescue," Asked Hermione amusingly, opening her mouth for the first time.

Draco stopped and turned back to the group. Harry gasped. In no more than seconds, the cheerful face had taken a tense expression his eyes showed a tiredness than run deep in his body. "On the contrary, Granger. On Monday, I suspect my grand-father will pay us a visit."

Sirius's eyes opened wide, "Your grand-father?" he repeated, "Aren't your grand-fathers dead?"

Draco faced the man and sighed. "Such parasites never die," He said and left.

"How do you know his grand-fathers are dead?" Asked Harry when Draco had disappeared.

"Family's obligations. They died long ago. Narcissa's father just after we got out of school and Malfoy's during the first war."

"By the way, Sirius," spoke Hermione, "Would you know what happened to Narcissa Malfoy?"

"No. When I mentioned her to Malfoy, he evaded the question. He knows for sure but won't tell."

"We'll be fixed this afternoon," concluded Dumbledore, "I asked him an interview. Now, I suggest you also go and sleep. I have no clue on what is going to happen on Monday but if Mr Malfoy have gone to rest, it should be important."

- - - - - - - - - - - - -

**Sunday, November the 1st **

Morning came again. The sun had come out not so long ago and golden beam of lights roamed the air. For the first time in months, Charlie felt in peace. He was alive, Voldemort was far away, his parents had forgiven him and his brothers hadn't beat him to a pulp. All was well in the best of worlds, would have said Voltaire. Charlie could almost have heard birds singing in the sky.

A body stirred to life next to his. He turned on his side and plunged his hand in the long red mane. It wasn't new to wake up next to Bill. Ever since they were kids had they slept together.

When they had move in the Burrow, the house's renovations weren't finished and the two brothers had been put in the same room, sharing a bed. Small as they were, it fitted well. They had only one year difference. Same toys, clothes, thoughts. Then Percy was born, "We will protect him together!" Charlie had declared. And to protect, they had, Percy, then the twins, Ron and Ginny. When Charlie's Hogwarts letter had arrived, Bill had cried for days.

"The dark lord wants to attack Hogwarts! I don't want you to die!" He'd said.

It was time of war and effectively, Hogwarts was attacked, but one year later and at that point, the two brothers were reunited in the same house and feared nothing. True Gryffindors. Then time had passed. Romania and Egypt had separated them. The news of Bill's engagement. She was named Emily. Red hair too, strong temper, very kind, good cook, wanted many kids, the perfect wife. Molly had immediately adopted her. To Charlie, it had been a shock. Wasn't Bill gay?

"I thought. But I love her, Charlie. Please, I need your benediction. I will do nothing without."

Of course he had given it. His little brother, the second part of his soul, was happy. Who would he be to deny him this pleasure? And he was happy too. He took joy into seeing Bill smile. Then there was Voldemort.

_Flash-Back_

_"Please, I'm here to open an account. The more common formula you propose," He told the goblin. _

_"Of course, sir."_

_And then he saw. Red hair passed him. As an automate, he turned the head. The temptation was too high. The sight was unbearable: Bill had taken thirty years in four months. Charlie filled the papers in a daze and fled Diagon Alley. Two days later, he came back and asked for Bill Weasley._

_"Bill, it's me," He said tentatively when they sat in a park._

_The young man looked at him without understanding. What was this man saying? _

_Cast looked around to verify no-one was listening. "Charlie," He added in a murmur._

_Bill enraged, "Do you think me a fool? My brother is in Voldemort's hands, and if you don't want to test what I do to death-eaters when I find one, I suggest you go away now."_

_"Please, Bill," he pleaded with supplying eyes, "You have to trust me. Ask whatever you want. Or let's go somewhere with less people and I'll take the counter-potion."_

_Bill' face showed confusion. These expressions, both physical and of speech, it really looked like Charlie when he regretted an act. Or it was him going mad. "Fine. You have five minutes. Past that time, I call for the aurors... Or kill you myself for such a farce."_

_Charlie took a long breath in, "When we were young, you used to sing Christmas songs with Mum. One day, as you wanted to carve your name up in a tree and I feared you would hurt yourself, I went in your place without you knowing. I felt and break my arm. You drew a bear on the plaster. Another time when Fred and George were six and they had disordered your coin collection one more time,_ _we hid at night under their beds and made them think there were ghosts in the house in retaliation. During your sixth year at Hogwarts, you had a date with your first boyfriend and apprehended to kiss him so you asked me to train you. Later, when I was gone to Romania, you..."_

_Charlie stopped his rambling as big tears rolled down Bill's cheeks. "It's me, lil bro. I swear. I'd never lie to you."_

_The young man looked at the floor and wiped his eyes with his sleeve. "I thought you were dead. That_ _the dark lord killed you," He cried out._

_"I know," softly replied his elder, hugging his brother to stop the tremors, "I'm sorry. I didn't want to worry you so much. I'm sorry," He repeated._

_The shivers slowly died. People looked at them like at two lovers reconciling after a quarrel. It_ _certainly looked like it. On both opinions, they went to a less known part of the park in order to be tranquil. _

_"How did you escape?" Asked Bill while refusing to let go of his brother's arm in fear he would disappear again._

_"Well," hesitated the man, "That's the hard part. I was rescued by Malfoy."_

_Bill's eyes rounded, "What?"_

_"Hum. You heard. Please, do not think bad of them. They helped me so much. I was almost dead, Bill, and then he came and I awoke safe at the Manor. And he also helped me through the nightmares and the memories. I wouldn't have survived without him. Please, you must make peace, for me..."_

_"Fine!" Bill would have done everything just to keep his brother next to him, even associate with the devil, "Who is 'he'?"_

_"Draco Malfoy."_

_"What?" he exclaimed again. "And what did his father thought of you in his Manor?"_

_"That's complicated." Charlie didn't want to go on explaining about the Clan in a public park, it was already dangerous to reveal who he was, what to say about the Clan, Draco would never forgive him. "I can't tell you here. Too much risks. Come at the Manor tomorrow, meet me at the south border of the Malfoy's lands, there's a small church. I'll be there at ten P.M."_

_The day after, they met again, then it was two months of corresponding by letters only, and the summer holidays. By that time, Bill had agreed to meet with the Malfoys and all doubts he still had were washed away by his encounter with Draco. The young convinced him to work with them. Bill never said, but he would have agreed to anything, as a way to thank them for his brother's saving._

_Later in the holidays, Bill confessed he'd called the marriage off. "But why?" Cried Charlie when learning about it._

_They were taking a walk in the big property of the Malfoys. In this park, you could run for hours and encounter no-one. However, the lands were inhabited. Here and there, small boroughs had constructed, accommodating some dozens of souls. When you asked them why they lived on the Malfoy's grounds, they all answered without an hesitation, 'Because they protect us.' And if you insisted and demanded against who, they smiled enigmatically, kept their lips closed, raised the right arm and designed the Skies, then the Earth. What did that mean? _

_They had sat on a hillock, observing the activity in one of the boroughs from the top. Children were playing on brooms, they looked like they were learning the rules._

_"You know the reason: I'm gay," finally acknowledged Bill._

_"But you said you loved her," contested Charlie._

_"Yes, I said it. Seems like I misled myself into thinking I could marry the feminine version of you," he laughed, with a hint of bitterness in his voice._

_Charlie wasn't sure his brother joked or not and decided not to comment or act upon it._

_End of Flash-Back_

At the deliciously erotic feeling of a manly warm hand creating knots in his hair, a long moan answered the caress. A door's noise made it a groan.

"Two sexy young men in a bed. If I didn't know Harry would never forgive me, I'd join you."

They recognised instantly Draco's voice. Charlie turned in the bed to face the newcomer.

"There's a problem?"

"A problem?" repeated Draco as he spotted Bill's wand on a table and played with it, "No, there is no problem. I'm simply trying to busy myself while father is with Dumbledore." His voice was dull, his mind far away and his eyes tired.

"Why don't you go and assist to the conversation if you mind it? Besides, I don't think he would reveal anything that could bother you," reassured Cast.

When Draco didn't answer and fixed continually a spot on the carpet, Charlie got up, took the boy's hand and guided him to the bed which they sat on. Bill observed them, fully awoken. "It isn't this conversation that bother you, is it?"

Draco finally looked at him with blank and scared yet heartened and hoping eyes, "I spent last year's alone. But this time, you're here. There's someone."

"Last year's what?" Inquired gently Cast, encouraging the boy's confidences out.

"Tomorrow, I died."

"What?" he exclaimed in a soothing tone, "Draco, that doesn't make any sense. You can't have died tomorrow. You're just here, with us," he contradicted as he would blow away a child's fear of the dark.

"I feel it," went on Draco without acknowledging the reply, "I feel the wind of death upon me again. It's coming and I can't stop it. I know I will come back, I know it for sure, but the dark is frightening and I go alone."

Charlie stopped the rambling by clasping the boy into his arms. "You're not alone! We're here. Bill and me." As to stress the fact, the younger Weasley passed his hand in the blond hair. Within minutes, Draco was asleep. The two brothers looked at each other: none had a clue on the young's behaviour but they didn't mind: it was time for payback, not for questions.

- - - - - - - - - - - - -

At the same moment, two grown men were conversing into Dumbledore's office.

"I must acknowledge my being impressed by Draco. Your son revealed many qualities in this short period of time."

Lucius didn't replied but his expression was mid-smiling, mid-smirking behind his cup of tea as he sipped some of it.

"I wondered: did the ceremony take place?"

"If you know the answer, why ask the question?"

"Hum... Right... I noticed Severus spent the night at Malfoy Manor." He sounded like a father scolding his daughter's boyfriend.

"And?"

The old man hesitated, eyed the blonde lord with his piercing sight, plunging to the utter soul of his 'victim', yet this man was one of the few that always let him an impression of unfinished work, of mystery that he hadn't uncovered. What with the events of these six last years, public opinion had stricken continually the Malfoys; and the new Gryffindors didn't understand this power that this ancient family possessed. But it was still there, more powerful than ever. How could no-one have sensed it? Of course. The Malfoys had stopped many of their diplomatic relations ten years ago. Had they felt they needed to disappear from the first scene? Lucius Malfoy was a particularly dangerous opponent on the politic field, had he foreseen the coming to power of his son? No, it couldn't be so. Rather, he wanted to be of use to his master. Then Harry and Voldemort had occupied the press and mind of everyone, letting free place to Draco. The boy had exploited this discretion and underestimation he was offered to raise to power in the middle of us. And we saw nothing! A true Malfoy he is indeed. Manipulator to the extreme. Finally, he had taken his father back to the top with him and there the man was. As dangerous as twenty years ago. Truly, the Malfoys were the real soul of the dark side, not Voldemort. They reigned over it for centuries and didn't appear as inclined with stopping there. Dumbledore sighed.

"I want you to take care of Severus. He isn't as strong as he looks," he eventually required.

"I took care of him for more than twenty years. Surely that shows my competence on this matter."

_Flash-Back_

_"You think he would have killed them?" Inquired Severus at Lucius's attention._

_"Who?" Questioned back the vampire. Aurors and Gryffindors had departed for Merlin only knew where, Slytherins for Hogwarts under the care of Cast and Bill, and they had been left alone, immediately directing their steps toward the chamber. But Snape seemed less inclined to pleasure than he'd been one and a half hour ago. What he wanted now were answers._

_"Draco of course."_

_Lucius turned back to the black-haired and closed the door behind them, then invited the man to sit on the bed as he served them a drink. "If you mean the aurors, yes. And the world would have been better. Still, I don't wish to be sent to Azkaban and won't complain he let them live."_

_They stayed silent for a time, their mind devoid of thought and delighted in the calm of the room, sipping quietly the expensive cognac. Lucius posed his half-empty glass on the chimney and soon, Severus's joined it. Alcohol had rendered to Snape's body all his sensations back, and as the blond man approached, he lied back on the bed in waiting of the delectable pleasure of being exposed to the_ _vampire. He drew his legs apart, letting place for Lucius between them._

_The man sat, pulled Severus's thighs on his lap and rammed his pelvis above the covered cheeks. A long groan of unfulfilled desire completed the motion. _

_Many hours later, they both reposed under the sheets, exhausted and asleep together. A dark-haired head rested on a white strong shoulder and hands were intertwined. They looked like lovers. And they were._

_End of Flash-Back_

"Yet you never knew he worked for me," Attacked Dumbledore.

"And you still don't know the full nature of our relation," Countered Lucius.

Dumbledore stayed silent for a time, pondering the last words of the High Clan's lord.

"What do you mean?"

"Ah that..."

"What happened to Narcissa?" Dumbledore brutally yet calmly asked.

Lucius smirked, "Severus warned me you wouldn't drop the subject. I'm none the less pleased to notice you gave up the riddles."

The headmaster awaited for the man to go on, wondering if this time, he would get an answer. It seemed Merlin was on his side.

"You see..." began Malfoy, "Each time Draco revealed himself to someone as the Slytherin heir, this someone was to choose between him and Voldemort."

He paused and Dumbledore nodded to show his full attention.

"I was presented this dilemma one and a half year ago, at the end of Draco's fifth year, after being almost sent to Azkaban. I'm sure you recall the circumstances of what I'm talking about so you'll also remember I was acquitted thanks to an Imperius that had been placed on me."

The words sank in. "He had cast it," Completed Dumbledore.

"Well... He never admitted it directly, but it was insinuated. He gave me six months to make my choice. Why six? I don't know. The problem is: I discovered approximately five months later that someone had heard our little conversation this very day."

"Narcissa, I suppose."

"You're right. The fact is: not only had she spied on us, but she had also gone and repeated it to someone I would rather have been left ignorant. Let's name: the dark lord. At that time, I had already took the decision to follow Draco and did not appreciated Voldemort to be aware of it. And, as in every group that wishes to remain even remotely secret, spying and treason are not well accepted among the Snake's Clan. Also, she was my wife and by so, my responsibility. I had to repair the insult she made to the Clan. You must know Narcissa was a death-eater, but wore the mark on her leg as her arms were commonly naked. She was linked to Voldemort as each of us. Was she to die a violent death, he would feel it. Besides, a quick death wouldn't have taught her a lesson..."

"I fear I don't follow you." Or rather he doubted his will to discern the truth.

"Oh, but you perfectly understood. I buried my wife alive."

Dumbledore registered the shock and searched for the least trace of regret or sadness in Lucius's eyes. There was none.

"For days," went on Lucius, "For days, she bawled between her four walls, pestering against me and Draco, using her nails on the rocks. Then the cries became whispers then silence."

Dumbledore was horrified. "Does Draco know of it?"

"For sure. That's why he went to Voldemort."

"Hum." That was one of the reason he never liked the Malfoys, they were always too quick to condemn.

They talked about nothing in particular some time more then Lucius took leave.

No sooner had he exited the Gargoyle that Bill came to him, murmured some words that made both men went away.

"We thought he was sleeping but only five minutes later, he got up and directly went to the Slytherin wing. A painting appeared on a wall and he entered it. Charlie stayed with him in case he moves to elsewhere."

"What happened that made him react this way?" A frown lined his forehead, sole evidence of Lucius's worry.

"We don't know. He seemed tense, even afraid. He talked about dying tomorrow."

"What?" His heart began beating faster and his pace accelerated.

"He said he died tomorrow."

Lucius didn't even stopped. As they arrived near Cast, the man indicated them Draco still was there by a move of the hand. Effectively, Lucius observed a time the old painting. It represented a single room, simply decorated, furnished with a carpet, a small well-stocked bookcase, a desk and a bed, on which he noticed his son. The boy was cuddled in the sheets, his hair only coming out. Lucius placed a hand on the print and penetrated it.

Silently, he approached his sleeping son and sat on the bed. He contemplated the show of a little angel in his white nest of immaculate feathers. He took off his shoes and entered the bed, fully-clothed, earning a groan of discontent at the disruption and as soon a moan of satisfaction at the source of heat. He embraced his son, cherishing the lithe body in his arms. How many years had it been since he last fondled his little boy? These last months, Draco had grown distant, concerned over the Clan and his responsibilities, and they had little time to talk. Surely what was currently befalling to him was part of these secrets that was his new life. Still so many to unfold. Hopefully, this one could be deducted from the remaining number. Actually, Lucius hadn't need much hint to discover what was occurring: he already knew the death's date of Dracken Malfoi, the rest had been deduction. There had been too many coincidences since little while ago for him not to suspect something. Dracken had died on the 2nd of November, the exact day of Draco's birth, the night of the Dead. His son was haunted by his previous death.

In the middle of the night, when the terror was at its paroxysm, Lucius clasped tightly his son, reciting all he knew, from the powers and knowledge to the 'Salazar would have been very pleased', in order to appease his soul. Then it ceased, and Draco was back.

"He's there," He only said.

- - - - - - - - - - -

Moony turned and returned in his bed. He hadn't slept since Sirius's return the day before, and began to feel really tired. Besides, the fool moon was still too present in the atmosphere for him to rest.

How many times would he lose Padfoot? His last companion. Of course, he had many other friends, but none could compare with the special link the Marauders had formed.

Sixteen years ago, when they all thought Black was a mass-murderer, cause of the massacre in the Potters' house and one and a half year ago, when he'd fallen into the world of dead.

At that time, he hadn't resisted. In front of Harry, he'd put up the strong face to help the boy; but in private, it had been the nervous break-down. After many pondering days, he'd gone secretly back to the Ministry and traversed the passage. He'd erred among the shadows, searching for his friend, not even knowing how he would return to Hogwarts. But his sanity could seriously be doubted at this moment. Finally, he'd found him, in the middle of disappearing souls. He'd dragged the unconscious body toward where he came from, before his mind took a no-return point. Hopefully for both of them, Dumbledore had felt Remus quitting the Black Manor and had followed him. He had opened the gate for them, using force power. Dumbledore was their father, he cared for and protected them, as Draco did for the Slytherins.

He suddenly roused. What was this now? This sensation that cursed his veins. This was power in its truest form. He put on his robe and ran through his chamber's door. The cold air helped him see clearer and his were-wolf senses took the upper hand. He directed his steps toward the headmaster's office.

On his way to it, he was joined by Harry and Sirius, the first had been discussing with the second and had had a vision of red. They had gone to the headmaster for quick help.

Feeding the password to the Gargoyle, they jumped the stairs and opened the office's door wide.

The man was above the middle stature and broad-shouldered, long-armed, powerfully made, like ancient lords and noblemen accustomed to endure the fatigue of war or of the chase. His face was broad with large brown eyes that reflected promptness and fieriness, open and frank features, altogether expressive and secret. His long dark brown hair was combed down on each side to the length of his shoulders, with a little tendency to grey. As common wizards, he was dressed of a long black robe that fell to the floor.

Dumbledore extended the arm in the direction of the stranger and introduced, "Please, meet Godric Gryffindor, the founder of your house."


	12. Chapter 11 : Both ally and foe

**Summary: **When long ago, Salazar created the Slytherin house and put himself on its throne, he never thought that, one day, the Snake could evolve and the crawling lord mute into the sky sovereign, the one and only Dragon. Draco/Harry, Lucius/Severus, Ron/Hermione

**Warning**: mentions of incestuous and vampiric relations.

**Chapter 11: Both ally and foe.**

**Monday, November the 2nd (at 1 in the morning)**

"He's there," Draco said.

Lucius let his sight wander to the face of his son. His eyes were tired and still slightly afraid, but he now seemed better and to be recovering quickly. It would nonetheless be better if he rested for the day. The problem were his classes. Medical magic and History hadn't any importance, but Charms could be useful. Although what with Draco's new knowledge, Lucius wasn't sure he needed any teaching in any subject. But who was he talking about? He so inquired.

Draco buried deeper his face into his father's shoulder, "Grand-father."

Lucius frowned, "Draco, your grand-fathers died long ago."

"Not them. The other. Dracken's grand-father."

Oh. Who was his grand-father then, that he could frighten his baby son to this point? Maybe it was time for some clear answers, such as who had given birth to Dracken Malfoi? Whose name could have been so secret that the mother was hidden through generations of wizards?

" Draco," he asked softly, "who was your mother ?"

"Merian Malfoi. The first of the name."

Lucius gaped and forgot to close his mouth. Hadn't Merian Malfoi been a man? He had to, he was, just as Draco had repeated, the first of the name. It surely couldn't have been a woman! But then...

"And who was your ... father?" He had difficulties articulating the word, so out of place in his mouth. He felt like a cuckold in front of his wife.

"Salazar."

His breath stopped and he choked. "Salazar? As in Salazar Slytherin?"

Draco finally seemed to notice his father's loosing of countenance. His face came out of the rustled expensive shirt and looked at the man with a childish expression. Lucius remembered it: Draco had always wore it when knowing something others ignored. In these cases, the child had also constantly been eager to reveal his secret, after having pressed the others to begging... or had revealed it nonetheless after losing patience because they didn't.

"The one and only. And do you know who my grand-father is?"

"No, I don't know." Lucius didn't want to play child games right now, but he also didn't want to disappoint his son with paying no interest. "Would you tell me?"

"Hum. As you're kind, I'll consider telling you."

Kind? He calls me kind? Really... No-one even dared!

"My grand-father is..." Draco grinned to his ears, "Godric Gryffindor!"

This time it was the syncope. He needed to breathe. Inspire, expire, inspire, expire... Draco smiled even more at his father's expression and chuckled in his hands, truing to block the sound.

"So," finally calmed Lucius, "Gryffindor is your grand-father, probably by Merian, I suppose, and Slytherin is your father. That's great." He wasn't totally certain yet about his real feelings on the subject. Of course, he was proud of his son, but there was this tinge of sadness at not being mentioned in Draco's genitors that didn't want to go away.

"Do not worry." The boy smiled tenderly, as a child reassuring his mother as how beautiful she is. "He's my father and mentor. You're my dad."

Lucius wasn't sure he could acknowledge this mark of kindness at his attention. He had never liked such scenes. He wouldn't change. But he appreciated nonetheless. Brushing past the sentence so that his son wouldn't see his embarrassment and growing happiness, he unbuttoned his shirt's left cuff and rolled it up, presenting his wrist to Draco. "You need to feed."

The young one's face darkened. "Surely you remember what happened last time we exchanged blood?"

Lucius sighed and slightly averted the ice blue eyes. "I do, but it won't come to that this time."

"You think so?" Draco's look resembled too much Dumbledore's for Lucius to feel well at its sight.

"You know," went on Draco, "you know it will. It is inevitable. Such as in your bond with Severus, I mustn't feed from anyone else than my own mate. Should you feed me that I wouldn't be able to prevent sex and you don't want that."

"And," murmured Lucius, "if I was willing to let go of pride the time you restore your health?"

Draco let some seconds of silence pass then yanked himself out of the mattress and overlapped his father's body. He lowered his face to the man's, letting only millimetres between their noses and looked in his eyes. "Lucius, I haven't fed since ten months ago. When I do it, I will want power, I will want blood and I will want sex to a point you can't imagine. I would kill you."

Draco sat up straight again and closed his eyes, his mouth opened in blissfulness. "Just now, what you're doing... Aahh..." He couldn't keep himself from moaning. "So willing under me..." He drove his growing nails in his father's shoulders, creating red plots on his skin that tinted the shirt. "Do you know how handsome you are Lucius? Of course you do... Well, I tell you nonetheless. I want you. With Severus. In my bed. I want to fuck him with you watching, I want you to hear him crying and begging under my hands; then I want you to fuck him while I do you." The nails had reached their full size and sharpness, clawed the cloth and alabaster skin.

Lucius's manhood had come to life with the sensations. He had forgotten all of their previous conversation. Draco's force was radiating in the small room; Draco whose body weighed on his and claws pierced his skin, drawing blood. His own hands explored Draco's tights and he wanted nothing more than to spread his legs, to be the instrument, to be the prey and to feed from sex, blood and power. His own developing fangs were answering his burning desire, ready to bit into flesh.

"But you would regret it, dad. So we'll stop here," suddenly interrupted Draco, getting back on the mattress.

Cold air replaced Draco's warmth and Lucius felt all passion quit him. These quick successive changes were unnerving, but he couldn't complain for Draco was right: if one of them initiated a blood transfer, it would inevitably result in Lucius's death.

"You should go back to the Manor," counselled Draco, "I'm fine now. Thank you."

A simple nod of Lucius sufficed to show his total respect of the boy... no, of the man in front of him. Had it been him in Draco's place, he wouldn't have been able to resist the attraction and hunger. That only proved a great deal of self-control and physical capacities. They exited the painting that instantly disappeared. Both Malfoys smiled. The Weasley brothers had waited for them and felt asleep, one nestled in the other's arms. Draco observed them a time then turned back to his father.

"Take Severus with you and take care of him. He can help the rest. You did a good job of reconciling him with Dumbledore. He may need it when time comes."

"What time?" inquired Lucius somewhat apprehensively, even knowing the answer.

"War. This year won't finish in peace. Voldemort declared us outcasts and his first task will be to bring down our lands. I want you to stay at the Manor. Quit it on no pretext. I'll contact you twice a day for news. I'll send you Bill tomorrow, he'll live with you from now on. If you go round the grounds, take him with you. None of you is to go out alone. Last thing: dispose of Narcissa's body. Use the method you want but make it disappear."

Lucius made to go and search for Severus but was called back by his son who said, "If there's anything, and I mean **anything** strange or out of place, you let the lands down and you order a complete evacuation. Take the inhabitants to the old North undergrounds, call me mentally and stay there with them. Most important: never look back."

The man knew why his son repeated these ancient saying. If war was to come over the Malfoy estate, the worse would then be Lucius's mental state at the destruction of his grounds. Would he be able to remain hidden with his people should his lands be sacked and burned down by death-eaters? Would he be able to let go of hatred and anger? To control his vampire instinct to kill the invaders? He hesitated... and knew he wouldn't.

Draco awoke the brothers and sent them back to Cast's room. He then headed for his favourite resting spot in order to be fit to face Gryffindor.

- - - - - - - - - - - - -

"Godric Gryffindor?" repeated Harry, incredulous. Their mouths wouldn't close or their eyes take back their normal size.

Taking pity, the man passed fingers through the desk, exposing his ghostly nature. "What you see is only my spirit," he explained. The three newcomers then sat when Dumbledore waved a hand invitingly. Gryffindor remained standing, as he couldn't sit.

"Sir Gryffindor just appeared when you entered," narrated Dumbledore after offering everyone tea and sweet drops.

"Godric, please," corrected the mentioned, "we had enough problems in my time with names and houses. There is no need to inflict them on more people."

All four present nodded. "I notice with pleasure the sorting hat survived the millennium," smiled the founder, indicating and moving forward to said hat.

"Survived I did," exclaimed the thing, "how do you fare my lord?"

"As all spirits do. So you came across Salazar's heir. Why didn't you warned them, or us?" The tone was calm, with a tint of reproach in it.

"By four was I created. To all four shall I remain loyal."

Gryffindor smiled earnestly, "I remark Helga's influence is still strong in you."

"Just as ever, my lord."

Then the founder turned aside from the hat and back to the mortals. "Please excuse me for the interruption. You must wonder why I came back?"

"Indeed we do, even if we have some... hints about what brings you to the mortal world," admitted the headmaster.

"What I am about to tell you, you can only ignore, for it was hidden through the centuries by every possessor of this secret... A thousand years ago, a muggle gave birth to my last child: Merian, and died in the process. The second the child breathed, the centaurs predicted his own son would bring destruction upon Hogwarts."

"Destruction?" repeated Harry. The young man was astonished at all that happened. To be faced with a founder was a thing. To be faced with a founder whom you were said to be the heir was another. Besides, the man was impressive, physically and orally, and charismatic.

"Yes," acknowledged Gryffindor in a fatherly way, "it was said he would have the will and power to destroy Hogwarts. Moreover, and most important, he would have the opportunity. I asked advice from Helga and Rowena, Salazar wasn't present at the time, and we decided not to kill the child. Still, we had to protect the school, and cast on Merian a spell that took away all his powers."

He paused, observing the reactions. Dumbledore was listening attentively as usual, the three others were dumfounded.

"The error we made was in the spell itself. To deprive him of magic, the simpler and most effective way was to cut every link the boy had with me. We did. For years, it proved to be a good method. Merian knew about his lineage but was educated among the muggles and thought he was a squib. We never contradicted this. It was our second error. If we had told him, maybe we could have avoided what followed: when Merian was twelve years old, Salazar came back to Hogwarts."

Dumbledore shuddered at the cunning and intelligence the very name carried. He also began to understand where Gryffindor was taking them, the link between the past and the present.

"As soon as he saw Merian, Salazar took a liking for the boy, and adopted him. He gave him a new name, a new home and a new instruction. Then, at eighteen, Merian disappeared for a year... and returned with a child. We were so obsessed by the matter of the child's powers that we never bothered to ask who was the mother... Only in death did I make the connection and discovered the truth. The particularly caring and shielding attitude Merian had for his son, the time this damn Snake spent with the boy..."

"Merian had been the mother..." finished Dumbledore, his eyes denouncing his own astonishment at the very possibility.

"Exactly. Even now, I have no idea what could have changed in Merian's organism to allow such a pregnancy, but it appears the spell was strong enough to divert his male faculties and allow a development of his female's ones. Merian bore the child, made pregnant by Salazar..."

"A heir of both lineages? Indeed his powers would be incommensurable," commented Remus with impressed features.

"It is difficult for us the dead to observe the living and I don't know much of what followed for the family, but very recently, Helga, Rowena and I felt what could only be the power of the actual heir. He didn't possessed that much inheritance from me but Salazar's signature was so strong it could only be the result of a reincarnation. Does the name Dracken Malfoi talk to you?"

Dumbledore smiled and hold back a chuckle. "Decidedly the boy never cease to amaze me. The heir you are talking about can only be one person: Draco Malfoy."

"So..." interrupted Harry, not truly realising he was speaking aloud, "Draco wants to destroy Hogwarts? That's why he's here? But then why did he..."

"Harry," softly cut in the headmaster, "we don't know yet. Do not worry about such things when you are not sure. Why don't you go and rest? Tomorrow we'll know more."

With only a nod, the boy stood and went away. The two ex-Gryffindors soon followed, understanding they were in the way. Rather, Remus had understood and strongly hinted it to Sirius, finally drawing the man outside.

"Well. I didn't imagined my heir like he is," pointed out Gryffindor.

"Yet you like him," smiled Dumbledore.

"Yet I like him," echoed the founder, "if you narrated the last events, as it appears much took place recently?"

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Harry had gone back to Gryffindor tower. He couldn't sleep. Too many happenings in his mind prevented him from calming down. Losing hope, he rummaged trough his belongings for Marauders' Map and Invisibility Cloak then exited the Common Room for the corridors.

He wasn't aware of where his feet guided him. Why would he care? He had the map if he get lost, and besides, he was too tired to think straight. He had envisaged going again to Sirius, but his godfather ought to be sleeping or discussing with Moony, and Merlin knows they deserved some calm time together.

As he arrived near the Slytherin wing, wind sent the Cape's end flying and he froze. What if he was attacked? He'd already been. Dumbledore had enough on his mind lately, what if Harry managed to get killed on the top of everything else? He turned his steps back but a figure blocked the corridor.

It was all covered by a black robe, the way death-eaters dress. But it wasn't a servant of Voldemort. The thing didn't move and Harry cleared a part of the distance.

"Are you a dark creature?"

There was no answer.

"Are you going to eat me?" Harry asked again.

Still, no answer.

"Are you a sadistic cannibal bastard?" he finally lost his composure.

The shadow silently crossed the distance that separated them and bend over him. "Tell me Harry, do you think I am a sadistic cannibal bastard?"

Harry blushed and remembered when the shadow had saved him from the beast. Of course he hadn't mean it this way, he only wanted to move the thing into talking to him. "No," he whispered.

"Would you like me to be a sadistic cannibal bastard?" went on the shadow.

Harry gave the same answer.

"Then am I a sadistic cannibal bastard?"

This time, Harry smiled at the game, "Maybe?"

Wind suddenly blew into his eyes and he closed them for protection. When he opened them again, Shadow had disappeared. Had he vexed it? He seriously hoped not, it wasn't his intention. He opened the Map and looked for the thing but it was nowhere. This wasn't a surprise: if Seamus's tracers couldn't detect it, how could the Map? What Harry noticed, however, was a single plot on the top of the Astronomy Tower: Draco Malfoy. Grinning, he prepared to join him.

Harry passed the trap to the top floor of the Tower but there still was no-one. However, a dormer window was opened, letting cold air and some rain drops enter the abandoned room. Nor hesitating a second, he traversed it and set foot on the roof.

There, under the dark sky, superbly glorified by moonlight, lost in a gloomy melancholy, was sitting Draco. The young man clenched the tip of a pipe between his lips and some clouds of smoke lightened the darkness around him. So, Draco's resting on the Astronomy Tower's roof had given birth to this sex-symbol rumor… Amusing. Harry coughed to catch Draco's attention and advanced toward him.

"I didn't know you smoke," he remarked.

"I don't," was the plain answer.

Harry frowned. "But… What're you doing then?"

"Ah that…"

Since it seemed a subject the Slytherin didn't want to tackle, Harry dropped it. If they were to have a nice conversation on this night, better not begin it by angering him.

"I met Shadow tonight," tried again the Gryffindor when the blonde boy appeared as not willing to take the initiative.

"Truly?" That seemed to amuse Draco. "What did he said?"

"Well, not much. He merely turned back my questions against me."

At last, Draco reacted. He took out the pipe from his mouth and tapped it against the roof's rock. The aroma of expensive tobacco slowly evaporated. He still wasn't willing to talk. Harry bent toward him. "I'm aware it's you. Thank you for saving me the other night."

The Slytherin smirked. "The pleasure is all mine. How did you discover it?"

"I'm not sure. I just knew it was you. You're the only one… to make me feel this way."

Draco slithered on Harry, pressed against the boy till he dominated the body with his own. "This way?" he repeated sensually.

Harry was caught between the cold roof and the hot dragon. Draco's eyes were plunged inside his and he felt as ever, "Safe." Draco redressed him and pressed him against his own body. Then it was silence again.

"Draco," broke Harry. Draco moaned, inviting him to go on. "May I ask you questions?"

"You're a curious one, aren't you?"

Harry blushed but also nodded and grinned. "That's a yes?" When Draco approved, he quickly thought of all he had yet to discover and that he would do tonight, if Draco's mood remained this conciliating through all of the interrogatory. "What happened to your mother?"

"Lucius killed her."

"What? But… Just… like that? He killed her? But why?" he stammered.

"Because she had given us to Voldemort. She betrayed her husband, put the Clan into danger."

Harry could understand the reason, even if he didn't approve of the resolution itself. Plus, wouldn't he have reacted this very way if it had been him? No… He would have been broken. He sincerely hoped never would Draco betray him. Still, how could he be sure of anything? Yes, Draco had supposedly a will of associating with the Order of the Phoenix, but what if it all was a cover? What if he had been a death-eater from the beginning? No, it was impossible. They would have discovered hints at the very least. And it would also mean Snape had betrayed Dumbledore and that, for all the hatred Harry felt for the potion master, he also believed this friendship with the headmaster ran deep. No, Snape wouldn't betray Dumbledore, not to the point of putting Hogwarts in danger. "Draco… Do you project to destroy the school?" He inquired on the spur of the moment.

Draco frowned then chuckled. "Harry, predictions are made to be changed."

The Gryffindor hid his face in the Slytherin's robes. "You knew?"

"Of course. I sensed him arrive. It is true that… a thousand years ago, I desired nothing more than to bring Hogwarts down, but the prediction and their intervention kept me from that. Time has passed and I changed. Do not worry over this, Harry, the school is safe from me."

"Hum… I'm sorry I doubted. Well… Well…" He searched for an other subject to evade from this unsure one. "Why do you wear gloves?"

"Why do you think I wear gloves?" counter-attacked Draco tit for tat. When Harry stared at him with enormous eyes, he chuckled again. "When I went for Pritchard, I used some magic I wasn't prepared for. My hands are recovering from it."

"Oh…" Culpability and grief stroke him anew. "I'm sorry. So… You're an animagus?" He deviated the subject again.

"Yes, I am. But you also are, aren't you Harry?"

Harry gaped. "How do you…"

"Harry, Severus must have narrated it to you: I already possessed my powers last year. I used them mostly to spy on you. I discovered many things. Many very interesting things…" Draco was fixing him, a predatory gleam in the eyes. Surprisingly, Harry wasn't angered by the confession, he didn't even care, he felt… special, cared for, appreciated like he never was and it really was pleasant. Then he remembered another of his questions that never was truly answered: "Really? Is that why you gave up quidditch? You realised you would never be able to beat me in the air?"

Draco laughed. "Don't be presumptuous, young boy. I took this decision for the inverse reason. If I was to… mount a broom for competition, and against you… I wouldn't trust myself with your life." The end had been a whisper.

"But I trust you with my life," retorted the boy.

"You may, Harry, but you mustn't. You don't know what I am. If you were to show a single weakness while on the air… Or what if I failed to resist the instinct? My animagus form reigns on the skies, it doesn't approve of anyone daring come against him. It would take the control and kill you."

"Draco… my animagus is capable of fighting a dragon," insisted Harry, willing to reason the blonde so that he would play seeker this last year in the upcoming match.

"A common one, yes, Harry, I know you are. But you forget I come from both lineages of Slytherin and Gryffindor. I am not a common dragon. I am the worse race it exists. Please Harry don't require more, I simply can't, not now. When we'll be out of school, I promise we'll play as much as you want but not now, when I don't even master my beast part."

The ice blue orbs were begging for comprehension, for acceptation. And Harry nodded. Such regard was out of place in Draco's eyes. What sort of dragon could he be for the Slytherin to be afraid of himself? Had he fought Voldemort with this form? Snape had said death-eaters were running away out of fear. It ought to have been an horrible fight for killers and assassins to cover in terror. Harry let the problem in suspense and buried in Draco's shoulder again. The Gryffindor surprised himself by purring. No wonder: he was warm in Draco's arms.

"Draco," he called one more time. He liked saying his name, it was like another acknowledgement of their relation and appeased his mind. "I didn't thank you properly for saving Sirius. That's the most wonderful present I ever received. I deeply appreciate, from the bottom of my heart." Saying it, Harry had dressed up and approached Draco's lips with his. But the Slytherin stopped him.

"Harry, I'm sorry but…" At the young man's horrified green eyes, Draco immediately made up for his mistake. "No, I don't mean I don't like you, on the contrary!"

Malfoy kept tightly Harry against him, preventing him for fleeing and only went on when he was sure the Gryffindor was calmed. "I have a secret. I can't reveal it to you, I'm sorry. As soon as I'll be able to, I'll do, that's a promise. But now, I simply can't. This secret… I can't touch you Harry, not without harming you. Well, we can touch, I rather mean we can't do everything even remotely sexual. When everything will be finished and Voldemort dead, I promise. Then, I'll trust myself with your life, but not before."

"I don't understand…" Harry was lost. Draco liked him a lot, he had said so. What could obstruct their way to happiness? Besides, "Draco, if Voldemort dies, I'm not sure I'll…" But he couldn't finished as Draco's fingers touched his lips.

"If you think I'll let you die in this war, my sweet Harry, then you know me badly. Slytherins protect the people they love with all they have. And I love you."

Three simple words that vanished every hesitation in his mind. He smiled in pure ecstasy and it was his turn to murmur them. There, safe, happy, confident, he felt asleep.

- - - - - - - - - - - - -

Harry was awoken by the aching of his right arm, caused by a strong grip. He scanned the place he was in, for he couldn't be on the roof anymore. He so discovered a bed under him, his body dressed in pyjamas that weren't his own, and Draco next to him. The blonde only wore pants and the eternal gloves. Surprisingly, Harry didn't feel anymore this need to engage in physical love with Draco. He was fine with being next to the Slytherin, to discuss and fully appreciate their growing relationship for the time being. Sex could wait. If they fought together in this war, Harry was confident they'd win and then, as had said Draco, they'd have all the time.

That was the Slytherin's hand that clutched Harry's forearm so tightly. The Gryffindor smiled tenderly: Draco could be possessive even in sleep... But the happiness soon disappeared from his face, for Draco's one was all but peaceful in this early morning. On the contrary, his lips firmly pursed, his teeth cringing, anxiety dug his forehead in deep lines. He was surely having a nightmare.

For the first time, Harry could observe Draco's body when tensed : muscles bulged, and the young man wondered how he could have missed it in the bathroom a month ago. Gryffindors had always thought the Slytherin prince was a worm, unable to defend himself physically and that was why he was followed everywhere by his two goons Crabbe and Goyle. The theory proved to be wrong. What with such a physic, the thrashing Ron had given Draco continually a year ago felt out of place. A body like this one couldn't be crafted in twelve months. Was it part of the power Draco had mysteriously acquired? Well… Not so mysteriously anymore: the Slytherin had recently got back memories and powers of a previous life, or so Harry had comprehended from Gryffindor's tells. What he still wondered was how the founders' curse could have stopped so brutally? The gap between past Draco and present Draco was large. Could an awakening transmit so much or had Draco done something to get his full powers back?

Day began to filter in the Slytherin dormitory and Harry noted the blonde's dorm-mates were all still asleep. It ought to be early. As Draco's nightmare didn't stop and the blonde didn't release Harry's painful arm, the Gryffindor gently shook the strong body. It had the expected effect: Draco slowly calmed and opened his eyes. They looked tired and sadly resigned.

"You had a nightmare," both explained and inquired Harry.

"If only." The riddled answer was all Harry got before Draco changed the subject. "I need to go and chat with Gryffindor."

"Then I go with you," he declared in a tone that let no other possibility than to agree.

"If you so desire, my dear."

Harry got up and dressed, turned toward the door so that Draco wouldn't see too much of him. As he put on the shirt, he recalled how childish it was: only the Slytherin could have slipped him in night dressing; by so he'd seen his ex-arch nemesis in very, very, very few attire. Had something happened then? No, Draco wasn't so low as to take advantage of a sleeper. Besides, Harry recalled, it was Draco that had, the day before, insisted that they couldn't have a physical relationship as long as the war hadn't end.

Still, Harry went on dressing looking at the dorm's door. It wasn't shame, no… more modesty. Rather that's what he wanted to think. He considered his own body nice to look at; not perfect but pleasant to the eye nonetheless. His team-mates had made many similar remarks, about this physical attraction girls felt for him. When they'd discovered he was gay, they had gone on, but about boys. Some had even openly flirted with him. Of course, it hadn't gone out of the Gryffindor house. But Draco's… It was different. Draco's body was perfection made man. It was a body well educated and cared for. No wonder Seamus's comparison of Draco to a god in bed. If the lower part had the same consistency than the upper, Harry could prepare for a night in Seventh Heaven. For now, he only appreciated the warmth of Draco's eyes on his back.

When Harry was finished and turned back, Draco was frowning. "What happened to your arm?" the blonde inquired.

"My arm? Oh… This?" He lifted his left sleeve up, to where Wormtail had cut him in fourth year. "Kindness of Voldemort two years ago. I'm surprised your father didn't narrated the scene to you." he vainly tried to block sarcasm away from his voice. "But I forgot. He did. You brawled about it soon after."

Memories of this fateful night came back in flows, with all the pain it had engendered.

"In fact, he didn't." Draco's words astounded Harry, both by the content and the calm tone. "I heard it from Pansy and didn't want to look like a 'put aside'. I had other problems in mind at that time."

"Truly? I never imagined… What bothered you? If I'm not being indiscreet, I mean."

Harry's good mood was back. Lucius Malfoy hadn't recounted in full detail the reincarnation of his master to his son? Or rather, what could have so preoccupied Draco that he didn't drink his father's every word?

"Let's say I just discovered the reason why my father joined the dark side."

"There's a reason?! Hum… It isn't that you hate muggles?"

Draco laughed and finally got up, went to a wardrobe and removed some clothes. "We don't hate muggles, Harry! Well… Lucius does but he has some bad memories and good reasons to. We rather don't approve of the unconscious mixing between muggles and wizards."

"That's racism," growled the Gryffindor as he averted to look at Draco changing pants.

"No, that's prevention. I lived through a thousand years, Harry. I learned some lessons."

But Harry didn't listen anymore. His eyes were glued to Draco's belly, on a red scar he hadn't notice before. "What happened?" It was his time to ask.

Draco softly smiled, "Kindness of Voldemort, ten months ago."

"When you saved Charlie?"

"When I saved Atus, yes."

"Why do you call him Atus?"

"Because under the name Atus Cast he was admitted in the Snake's Clan and put under my responsibility. Besides, you'd better get used to thinking of him as your professor Cast, it'd save Bill some problems."

By the end of the explanation, Draco was dressed and ready to go. They quickly stopped by the bathroom then went away.

"Why Bill? Another secret?"

"Yes, but this one isn't mine. If you really want to know, you may ask them, but I suggest you let them alone for now, the time they come to term with their own desires."

In the corridor, Harry remembered Draco hadn't revealed why his father had joined the dark side. He longed to ask again but the Slytherin's bothered look prevented him from voicing it out.

"Jillywigs," immediately pronounced Draco as they faced the Gargoyle which opened.

"How do you know the password," questioned the Gryffindor, already knowing the response.

"Spying always pays," grinned the Slytherin, "Hi, Grand-Pops!"

Harry heard with horror and a tint of amusement the so familiar way Draco called Gryffindor. His little smile vanished automatically from his lips when the founder turned back toward them. Vaguely, he concentrated on his Occlumency lessons, attempting to block away his funny thoughts from the perceptive minds of Gryffindor and Dumbledore. Hopefully, the storm passed without breaking.

"Dracken," saluted the spirit.

"Draco, please. Dracken died long ago," rectified the Slytherin, "So, why this sudden visit? I didn't hope anymore."

"I came to warn them against the danger you represented."

"Me?!" exclaimed Malfoy theatrically, "A danger? How can I be of any danger? I have no power, remember."

Harry burst out laughing, earning half reproaching glances from both old men.

"You know what, my dear grand-father? If you hadn't tried to keep my father and me away from magic, I would never have made this elaborate plan to reincarnate. Pity isn't it? Like Oedipus. That is why transcendental magic isn't accessible to common mortals and magic to muggles. Even only knowing about the future will create portals and distortions. Centaurs have forgot that a long time ago.

But don't worry. For now, I only want to crush the usurper. After that, well, only Future will tell."

Sir Godric sighed and Dumbledore still observed without a word.

"I suppose this assurance will suffice for now."

"Of course it will! After all, didn't you entrust Dumbledore with a certain formula of a certain poison in case I go berserk?"

Gryffindor and the Headmaster exchanged looks. "This boy still has no respect for his elders," stated the founder.

"Well! As much as I like this conversation, I have a favour to ask of you," admitted Draco.

"A favour? From me?"

"Yes. You see… I am a person spoiled rotten by Life."

Some eyebrows rose and Draco went on, "As a child, I was pampered by my mother, then, as a teenager, I was spoiled by my father and godfather. In my fifth year, when all risked to disappear with my father sent to Azkaban, I discovered the way to gain some powers and save him from the prison. This year, as I should have to choose between Dumbledore and Voldemort, I gathered my full powers back and escaped the dilemma. Finally, I only missed a companion, and Slap! I find Harry! Isn't Life wonderful with me?! I love Life! Why would people want to die in battle or other stupidities? I don't want to die. I want to live! With people next to me. I hate loneliness. I want the perfect heir to inherit the perfect lands in the perfect world. Got it? That's why you'll give me what I want."

Godric was watching Draco with dubious and slightly sad eyes, "You're mad."

"I'm your grand-son."

"How would you take it to term?"

"With the help of the one that saw me coming to life."

"He resurrected too?"

"No. He's a ghost. The Bloody Baron, they all named him."

Sighing, Gryffindor gave up, "Fine, you'll have it. Now, I have to depart."

"Already?" exclaimed Harry, shocked that Gryffindor quitted them so early.

"My only purpose was to warn you against him. Moreover, the Night of the Dead is coming to an end. I risk to remain stuck in your time if I stay any longer."

He turned toward Draco, a tinge of helplessness in the eyes as they exchanged silent words. "Salazar would have found a way to escape it."

"That's why I will," answered Draco with a sad smile.

"If I could, I would…"

"I know, but you can't. The gate is a thousand years too long. Thank you nonetheless."

Finally, the founder faced his heir, "For a long time did I observe you developing your powers. Don't hesitate to use them, even on him." He indicated Draco. "And if something bad happens, never forget he masters Time. I was happy meeting you."

"So was I, Sir," Harry replied with emotion.

Then it was finished.

"Draco… What were you talking about right now?" Harry asked when the founder had disappeared.

The Slytherin slowly pivoted his head till his ice blue eyes encountered green ones. "Nothing you should worry about Harry."

For the Gryffindor, it was one time too much. "No!" He cried, "Stop telling me not to worry!"

The eruption caused Draco to freeze and Dumbledore to suppress a smile.

"Everyone is telling me not to worry! Sirius! Hermione! Moony! Dumbledore! You! But I worry! And I want to know what's going on! And I want you to tell me now!"

Never in their six mutual years had Draco seen Harry so angry, and toward himself no less! Of course they'd commonly fought and sent words to each other, but these reproachful eyes, ready to share tears of fury, he'd never witnessed. Harry's hair had swelled as moved by wind, creating a mane on his head.

"I'm sorry Harry, I didn't mean to thrust you aside."

Draco's tone was pleading and sincere and Harry couldn't resist. "Fine. But tell me what's bothering you! And you too!" He pointed Dumbledore with accusation. "You think me stupid?" he cursed, "You thought I wouldn't remark your little game? For six years I fought Voldemort, I have a right to know what's going on!"

"Harry," stopped Draco, "Dumbledore isn't aware of what's happening. He suspects but don't know for sure. Sit."

When the three of them were sitting, Draco went on, "Severus told you I was declared an outcast?"

They nodded and he sighed. "For you to fully understand, I'll begin by narrating you some old history. Surely you heard a lot about Malfoy Manor? An immense house on an immense property, immersed in dark magic… But that's only part of the truth: the face we decided to show to the world in order to hide the rest. In reality, the Malfoy lands are more extended that what the Ministry knows of. As centuries passed, it was forgotten the Neutral Grounds were the Malfoy's. What I want to say is: these lands are impregnated with magic, they're alive. A thousand years ago, a pact was established between Merian Malfoi and the realm: he respected it and in exchange, it'd protect him. Many beings established their houses on them, humans or animals, dark or white. The pact was always followed. The ruler is currently my father, Lucius. And yesterday, Voldemort sent me a letter in which he declared war to the lands."

"War?" exclaimed Harry, "Draco! You helped many people, we'd be more than happy to aid you back."

The Slytherin smiled tenderly. "I deeply appreciate your generosity but that's exactly what I want you not to do. Ah… How can I explain… Dumbledore, you have the proof just under your eyes: there should exist classes of Ancient Magic, even if this fucking Ministry considers it dark."

Harry was patiently waiting, observing Dumbledore take the insult. The old wizard didn't seem to mind this much, since the major part of it was directed toward the Ministry.

"Harry," began the headmaster, "You remember when I described to you how your mother had saved you? Her love for you had morphed into a powerful magical protection. In the lands' case, it's a little different but the process is the same. Draco, please correct me if I'm wrong."

"That's it. Play the ignorant," the Slytherin declared, giving a brief ironic smile. "You're right, ok?! When the same families live on the same grounds for a millennium, it create bonds. If you also consider the existent pact, it becomes a very powerful weapon. When Voldemort declared war, he awoke centuries of dead spirits whose bodies were buried in the lands. If any stranger set foot on the Malfoy's grounds, he'll be eaten alive."

"Oh… So, what is the problem?"

"It's… Firstly, at the first signs of battle, aurors will rush up, hoping to gain proof against my family. All they'll discover is their death. So I have to tell them now what's happening and I really don't want to. The secret of the lands was kept for a long time and I'd prefer it to remain this way. Secondly, Voldemort has many followers, more than the Order of the Phoenix thinks. They're all strong users of dark magic and they'll try to sack the lands whatever deaths they should suffer in the spirits' hands. As a ruler and… well, as a ruler, my father won't be able to resist the need to fight the invader. He'll get killed."

"Wait," interrupted Harry, "there's a thing I don't understand. Who will exactly defend the lands?"

"Hum. There'll be the inhabitants, the spirits, many beasts and my father."

"And you expect him to stay away from the fight?" Harry had encountered this feeling too many times: people that hoped he would stay away from harm, hiding in his room while they got killed. He found it unbearable.

"Well… No. I only fear he'll be in the middle of it when the death-eaters find a way to call off the pact with the lands. That's why in some minutes, I'll send Bill to second Lucius. Atus is gonna hate me. Don't you?"

Draco suddenly looked at the door, which Harry noticed had opened, letting place to the Weasley brothers and Snape.

"I don't, because I understand, even if I don't approve. War is war," reassured Charlie.

"Thank you. Why are you here?"

"Severus searched for you. He told us about the declaration of war and we wanted to see by ourselves if you were all right." There was a certain accent on the last word that didn't go unnoticed by Dumbledore.

"I am, thank you." The special intonation of Draco's words had the same interest for the headmaster. What had taken place in the Castle that he'd missed? Moreover, the past day, he'd felt Lucius Malfoy disappear from Hogwarts but it hadn't been by walk or fireplace, more like a… the entering in an unplotable place. Then the man had reappeared late in the night and finally gone by floo-powder. Where had he hidden during the hours he was absent?

"Bill," commanded Draco, "you should prepare. The sooner you depart, the better. Severus, I suppose you have a message from Dad, about a certain body that should be where he wasn't?"

"How do you know?"

"Thanks to the wonderful classes of Mrs Trelawney, I became a medium. I saw it in the breakfast I couldn't eat this morning. I'm joking. If a certain body wants to play the invisible man, then a certain person will have to play 'the man who had to be killed twice'."

When Harry flaunted a lost face, Dumbledore murmured at his intention the name, "Narcissa."

"All is fine then. Atus and Severus, I believe you have classes to teach? Harry, you have classes to go to. As for me, I have an alliance to form. I'll come back for the night. Have a good day."

He kissed Harry on the cheek and disappeared in a poof of black smoke.

"Professor," Harry beckoned his mentor, escaping the questions about the kiss by diverting their minds, "Did Draco just apparated?"

"You can't apparate in Hogwarts," recalled the headmaster. "It seems like we have our Shadow, don't we, Harry? Pray, tell me Severus, what did you gave him to generate such a transformation?"

The potion master reacted badly to the question. "I gave him NOTHING, got it? Lucius already interrogated me about this and he got the very same answer for it is the sole! Now I have a class to teach!"

Snape had already the hand on the door's knob when he noticed… "Wipe away this little smile from your lips!" He accused Dumbledore, "What are you thinking this time?"

"Me? I was only imagining the interrogation." Dumbledore's smile remained.

"Don't." Charlie came to the Slytherin head's rescue. "Lucius accepts no-one meddling with his son. Not even Severus."

Indeed, Dumbledore's grin faded. "Oh… Then I excuse for thinking wrongly."

Severus growled something unintelligible and got out. He was certain the headmaster had seen the fear in his eyes. He hadn't been able to prevent himself from remembering when Charlie had told this verity about Lucius. The vampire wasn't brutal, he hadn't hurt his lover. Still, the panic had been present in Snape's veins: terror that he'd indeed have done something wrong without realising. When Lucius had asked about it, Severus hadn't known what scared him most: that he could have endangered Draco or the reaction Lucius would have if it was the case. In conclusion, after seeing Draco about it, he discovered he had not.

To know that he feared Lucius more than he did Voldemort was part of the reason he'd been able to remain a spy despite the dark lord's tortures and intimidation. There now was a person he dreaded even more: the Slytherin Prince. It was a anxiety that ran deep and never left him.

"One other thing I'd like to understand," stated Harry when he was alone with the headmaster. He also wondered why Dumbledore didn't mind his office being invaded regularly.

"Ah, Harry, those are old stories. Part of it I do ignore myself. If a family learnt to keep secrets from me, it surely is the Malfoys. If you really want to know about Severus, I may just say he experienced in his own time the uncertainties you discover now."

"And also, why can Bill enter the lands when the aurors can't?"

"I suppose Mr Weasley worked alongside the Malfoy family long enough to earn the lands' respect, but that remains a supposition…"

- - - - - - - - - - -

When he got back from his excursion, Draco directly went to the Slytherin dormitories. Indeed, night and curfew had just fallen over Hogwarts.

He'd first gone to Bihar, a mountainous region in the West of Rumania. There, he'd met with a natural and hidden tribe of dragons. After some arranging, he'd led them towards England and Malfoy Manor. They'd arrived in the evening (if you make the calculus, that's approximately 250km/h. Respectable for dragons). Then he'd had supper in the company of his father and Bill and had finally departed for the school at ten o'clock.

Passing Salazar's statue, he perceived a movement near the block of rock. It was Atus, sitting on the floor, his back leaned against Dracken's absent painting's emplacement.

"What is a so attractive young man doing at ten in a deserted corridor?"

"Waiting for his fairy godmother?"

Draco hummed, made a slight sign with his hand and Charlie felt backwards. Dumbfounded, he looked around him and discovered the he'd entered the reappeared painting.

"Take a seat. I suggest the bed, these chairs are uncomfortable, I hurt my back on them for centuries."

His moral not lightening up, Atus did as he was told. Draco took place near him, crossed his legs, rested his head against the bed post and waited.

"Draco, I have a problem… I've been caught in a plot and each time I try to escape, I only succeed into tangling myself more in the knot."

Draco awaited the going on of his friend but the man seemed to continue his discussion solely in his own head.

"We're brothers…" Atus finally confessed with deception and surrender.

"No." The fact was stated simply, plain in all its evidence glory, and all the more dreadful to listen to. "Charlie Weasley was his brother. You're Atus Cast, a very good friend of his. A sexy good friend of his," Draco added for good measure.

"It may appear simply for both of you, because you see me differently, my body being different; yet my memories and mind haven't changed and when I look at him, I still see my little brother. Plus, I can't take polyjuice potion all through my life! What will happen when I get my real appearance back?"

"In fact, this relation wouldn't bother you if he also changed body?"

"Wha… No! I forbid you! My mother would never survive the blow, such an insult to Nature laws. She apparently accepted Bill's gayness but only because he freaked over my false death. She would die by seeing the union of two of her sons. Everybody would!"

"I wouldn't."

"But you aren't normal!"

"Thank you…" Draco faked sulking.

"I didn't mean it this way, I'm sorry…"

"And what would you say of… Charlie is dead and really dead. Atus Cast exits definitely?"

"As an eternal potion? That changes nothing of the problem. Many people know who I truly am and among them, my family."

"Memories can be erased…"

"No!… Draco… I only wanted to hear I was mad and you could stop my desires for my own brother. Why do you complicate it so much?"

"Because you please me and I want to help you. That passes by you being happy, which passes by finding a way to love your brother in all impunity of law and your own morality."

"Draco, I'm attracted to my brother!" Charlie yelled once more, hoping this time, the actual atrocity of his situation would make it to the blonde's brain.

But as a response, Malfoy rummaged in his pocket and took out a pipe.

"You smoke?" exclaimed Atus.

"I wouldn't say it this way, but to everyone it seems like it, so yes," admitted politically the blonde, sparing himself a long explanation.

When smoke escaped from the pipe, Draco finally acknowledged the remark. "Do you want to see him happy? Happy like he never was?"

"Of course! He deserves it!" automatically answered the oldest Weasley.

"Then make love to him."

Charlie sighed in desperation, crashing his head between his hands. "You're all mad…"

"Some years ago," narrated Draco, gaining his friend's calm back, "I was attracted to my father. No better than your own situation, is it? I wanted him to love and take me. One day, at the beginning of the Summer Holidays…"

Draco paused and took some puffs at his pipe. "I cracked and went to his office. I told him everything. He reacted like frozen Hell: I was locked up in my room for a month. Each day, he came to me and asked if I had changed my mind. Each day, he got a negative answer. Badly for him, this particular summer had taken place the come back of Voldemort in the physical world and Severus was constantly occupied elsewhere. He couldn't go to the man for food and his hunger and yearning grew each day worse…"

Flash-Backs: Summer of the fourth year 

_Lucius put his glass down on the pedestal table of his office, his hand on a crystal bottle, hesitating to poor himself another drink. As a vampire, he usually was immunised against the dangers of alcohol but the absence of blood's supply currently left him fragile. Not that he would ever admit it, even to his busy lover. Still, it could do him good to draw his mind in vapours: keep him from thinking about his punished son._

_The boy had now been locked in his room for almost a month but he couldn't be allowed out till he hadn't succeeded in controlling his desire for sex. For this scene of so said physical attraction was nothing more than the preliminaries of the transformation. _

_Thinking of that, Lucius was bewildered that they only took place in Draco's fourteen year. In his own case, he'd resented the need at nine. It then had took him three full years to morph into a vampire. Now, Draco sensed near him the presence of a vampire with more power than he had and, as one of vampiric blood, the boy felt obligated to demonstrate his submissiveness. Like a cycle. In thirty years, it would be Draco's turn to discover his son making passes at his intention. A funny inheritance of the family…_

_Lucius looked at the grand-father clock, it was time for his daily visit to Draco._

_When he entered the room, he first thought Draco had escaped, because of the open window and the absence of the boy; but then, he heard a faint noise of water coming from the bathroom. Too soft to be the shower. He penetrated the place and discovered Draco with his head and hands immersed in water that filled the washbasin. The boy didn't move. When Lucius began to panic at his son's lack of reactions, Draco drug his face out of the water and the vampire's nostrils were suddenly filled with an odour of blood. He caught his son's arm and turned him brutally. The smaller hands were covered in wounds. _

"_What did you do?" he asked in a menacing tone, hiding his cold fear with harshness. _

"_Nothing of importance." Draco angrily got his hands back. "I demolished a mirror, that's all. And you may go away, I didn't change my mind."_

_But Lucius didn't listen to his son's annoyed talk. His brain was rotating in his head as the room's smell excited him. He flinched on his legs. Noticing his father's distress, Draco affected to get alarmed and took him to lie on his bed._

"_No, Draco, stop. I must go," Lucius weakly fought. _

"_Father, you're ill!" Naturally, he knew his senior wasn't truly ill; after all, hadn't he studied vampires during the month he was provided? He laid his hand, the still bleeding one, of course, on his father's forehead, as to take his temperature. Red drops mysteriously found their way to Lucius's lips and the man's last resistance melted. He moaned his appreciation of the precious liquid. Draco sat over his father's abdomen and rammed his butt on the bulging in the pants. Lucius got mad with pleasure and desire. Eyes shined and fangs grew. _

**_Friday, October, 16th_**

_Draco flied in the cold and watering wind, through the Forbidden Forest. Graham's father had come and took his son out of the castle during the afternoon. They'd try to join him without success: they'd already quit their house. Hopefully, he soon caught sign of the death-eaters and Voldemort. Pritchard was in a shadowed corner, magically tied to a tree. Draco was just in time. _

'_It may be time for our little surprise, don't you agree Sevy? Of course, you don't know of this part. I'm not 'destroying the maybe only way to kill Voldemort', as you said, for this potion you created never would have been able to destroy him. It wasn't finished seventeen years ago and it would never be on time for the war. Besides, if I kill the Snake, it will be by my own hands. Or Harry's. This potion I completed alone is an elaborate concoction to fully destroy a spell that was placed on me a thousand years ago. My old me, our powers will soon be back, and Godric will be rolling in his grave!'_

_He drank in one gulp and almost immediately grasped his stomach. The pain was unbearable and he cried out. Death-eaters heard the noise, saw him and came forward, Voldemort first._

"_If it isn't our little Malfoy. Got hurt, boy? Could you be begging for acceptation, now?"_

_Draco gritted his teeth, "Go to Hell!" He'd only finished that particularly strong and hurtful convulsions of his organs made him cough blood. Death-eaters laughed._

'_How do they dare make fun of me?! I want to kill!' "To kill them all!"_

_In dolour, he felt his body growing up, his muscles splitting, his bones breaking. Suddenly, he could heard two dozens of lungs' pair breathing and as many hearts beating. He could see afraid eyes and perspiration cascading from the wizards' forehead and most important, he could sense fear, no… terror no less! In the middle of these underlings, the only one he noticed, the dark lord whose eyes illuminated at the sight. The sole adversary that counted. The sole that could fight him. He growled his hatred and in front of him, the wizard changed form. _

This night 

_While on the roof, Draco observed a form disappearing in the forest. This thing wouldn't come back. It had failed in all his attempts to kill a student. The only thing it had succeeded in was denouncing Severus. Not that it changed much: the professor would have been showed up by his associating with the Clan. Voldemort wouldn't be happy. The dark lord would make a show of what it truly meant to torture and exterminate. Probably on the thing itself._

_Draco inhaled profoundly. The weather was fine, cold but not too much, just the temperature he liked it. It may be the time to discover if he still possessed the particular power Salazar had bequeathed him. So, he took out from his pocket, his pipe and tobacco. Visions could be dangerous, but they also could be of great help. Destiny would decide._


	13. Chapter 12 : Times of war

**Summary: **When long ago, Salazar created the Slytherin house and put himself on its throne, he never thought that, one day, the Snake could evolve and the crawling lord mute into the sky sovereign, the one and only Dragon. Draco/Harry, Lucius/Severus, Ron/Hermione

Warning: Mentions of incestuous and vampiric relations 

**Author's notes :** First, I want to thank all those who reviewed, you were wonderful. I hope this chapter will please you no less and that you'll find all you wanted to read in it.

Moreover, you may wonder why this chapter is called times of war. It can't be war! It's the beginning of the year! Yes, that's right, but when I began this fic, I thought 'Why is the big battle always at the end of the year? Why let the Gryffindors the time to prepare?' It didn't seem logical to me. So, I decided to write a fic in which the fight would be soon in the year. That's to say, here, in November. Please, forgive me for that. Don't worry, I'll narrate what happen till the end of the year, even if quicker. Maybe one day, I'll take the time to write some parts of it from other characters' point of view. 

Last but not least, please, read the chapter till the end, and don't be tempted to stop because of some bad news. (because I know that if it had been me reading, I would have stopped just before the end and send this fic's link to the trash). So, please, just go till the last sentence.

**THE SNAKE'S CLAN**

**Chapter 12 : Times of war**

**November**

All seemed calm. Professors were teaching their students the usual classes in the usual classrooms. Wind flew in the school's corridors, taking away ghosts that tried to resist the blow and pestered against the Zephyr God. House elves fussed in the kitchen to prepare the upcoming lunch. Homework was given and children finally released. They ate in silence then went back to class, studied, ate, slept, ate, studied, ate, studied, ate, slept and it went on in circle for two weeks.

In the middle of November took place the first quidditch match. Gryffindor VS Slytherin. Arriving first, the Slytherins randomly shared the tribunes, earning astonished glances from the other houses. With good will, Hermione sat in a Ravenclaw Tower, next to Draco. Justin didn't missed the opportunity : such an event was to be recorded in the Hogwarts Herald ! Maybe would he even be able to sell it to some outside weekly magazines. He effectively did. Three days later, the full match was related in the Daily Prophet in a special edition, subtitled 'Hogwarts in Revolution!'. Many photos accompanied the article. You could see the multicoloured disposition of the students' robes, the entering of the quidditch teams under the captaincy of Harry Potter and Blaise Zabini and the two of them sharing hands in the air. Then came Viktor Krum releasing the Snitch, many prowesses in the sky, the Gryffindors then Slytherins marking, and in the end, as the greens had thirty points in advance, the red seeker catching the snitch, earning his house the victory. But the photo that made the first page of the edition wasn't of quidditch. It was of two students, a Gryffindor and a Slytherin, a muggle-born and a pure-blood, the first carrying a green flag and the second a red one. Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy.

Of course, many commentaries underlined the magical picture: 'Love blooming in Hogwarts!', 'The breaking of social barriers!', 'What will answer Lucius Malfoy to this provocation?'

Lucius Malfoy only answered that his son was old enough to do as he wanted. Dumbledore mysteriously added that viewing photos as proofs could lead to false opinions. When reading the news-week, Harry was unconsciously jealous, even if he tried to forget it himself. Some days later, as journalists came to Hogwarts to interview the students, Draco made a apparition, arm in arm with the Gryffindor champion. It bowled the visitors over. Shots and flashes crackled during long minutes without interruption. It was the first time in Harry's life that he willingly submitted to a session of photos. If the world could see him with Draco then he would be happy.

But this special day had to be ominous. The very night, they received a declaration of war against the Order of the Phoenix and all Hogwarts. Many members of the Dumbledore army wondered why Voldemort took the time to send them a declaration. When asked about the subject, Slytherins shrugged their shoulders and rose their eyes heavenward, as if the answer was evident. The questioner then felt like an idiot till he encountered some other member, that had got the same reaction out of the snakes and hadn't understood either.

Harry had narrated to his room-mates and friends how Godric Gryffindor had come back from the dead to warn them against his grand-son that was none other than Draco. After some moments of doubt, all were bursting with questions and remarks of their own. How could a good Gryffindor fell into a so rotten house? Maybe they would learn that Malfoys descended from muggle-borns? Laughs had fused when they were told there effectively was a muggle in the lineage, grand-mother of old-Draco. They had stopped as abruptly when Harry had added Merian Malfoi had 'married' Salazar Slytherin. The full house still wanted to rub the not so pure-blood thing in Malfoy's face. None of them did. He would surely have retorted back something like, "Remember I am also a descendant of Gryffindor. But I found your house so pitiful and pathetic that I decided to go for Slytherin." None of them dared to go verify. The fact that the blood link existed was insulting enough. These contradicted reactions seemed to amuse Harry.

About the war, Dumbledore first decided to send back home as many students as he could. That was before Draco took the matter into hands. For a long time did he conversed with Harry in the Room of Requirement. Truly, you could say they talked till allied Gryffindors, Slytherins and teachers came and dragged them out by force. They then exposed their battle plan.

The following day, the two newly named house generals publicly read the declaration to all Hogwarts population. It was an uproar. The students would defend their school! Never had there been better army. Parents were notified of the situation. Some asked for their children back, demands that were generally refused by the students. Some came to Hogwarts as help.

Arthur Weasley cringed when learning his second son was in Malfoy Manor but he said nothing. Draco was officially accepted by the red-haired joker twins. He put them and Snape in a special team, charged with creating bombs. The professor had difficulties accepting. Not that he didn't want to associate with Weasleys but he would have preferred currently being at his lover's side.

Many death-eaters had been seen round Malfoy Manor. They had never attacked and seemed to be spotting and espying their enemy's forces. Nobody found out the dragons.

Draco often made journeys to Riddle Manor and back. What with his Shadow state, he could go unnoticed. Harry sometimes accompanied him, hidden by the Invisibility Cloak and magical barriers Dumbledore put on him. They so discovered Voldemort and his followers would attack both Hogwarts and Malfoy Manor the same night, preventing one team to go and help the other, on November the 25th. It was a Wednesday, a night of full moon. It was no surprise: among Voldemort's allies were the were-wolfs. The numerous decrees of the Ministry had definitely convinced them on which side to take. Giants had been disposed as neutral and retired in their mountains. Sole Hagrid, Mrs Maxime and a handful of others remained. Vampires, had declared Malfoy, wouldn't intervene either. He had only revealed his family had a long passed pact with them. Dumbledore had remarked they wouldn't be enough, the battle would be a massacre. Draco countered he waited for last hour help.

Remus was distressed over the fact he wouldn't be able to help them without endangering them. That was before Snape arrived, presenting a potion vial. It could either allow the were-wolf to conserve a part of his humanity and attack only death-eaters, or kill him. Before Sirius could stop him, Remus had drank the potion. All the present ones thought Black would kill Severus. Dumbledore stopped the enraged dog. Four days later, the day before the attack, Moony still was alive.

- - - - - - - - -

The wolf had observed many people during these last two weeks. His primary target had been Charlie Weasley, or rather Atus Cast. The young man was on edge, tired and anxious. He quitted table or conversation without reason, with only the pretext to go and join Bill by fireplace. Many thought he had an idyll somewhere and used Bill as an excuse. But Remus knew it wasn't the case. On these moments, Charlie truly went to his brother. Remus didn't say anything about it. He didn't fed the rumours, and didn't extinguish them, because he felt the same. This profound need to see that the people he loved were well. The terrorising anguish that could arose anytime and anywhere, the horrible fear that a misfortune had stricken your dear ones. He suffered the same for Sirius.

By three times, the man had been counted as dead. By three times, he had come back. But three had to be the limit. Nobody could escape Death more than the Chance number. That was the reason of Remus's unbearable fears. Not even Draco, with his mastering of time, could undo the will of Destiny. You could scoff at the Death one, two, three times but after that, Destiny would handle your future. And She accepted no contradiction. If only there was a way to discover the fate in advance, he would do it for sure. Anything to appease this torture. But he surely wasn't sole to wish the knowledge. Why would he deserve it more than another?

This constant alarm exhausted his body, and particularly his nerves. He was grumpy. Peoples were occupied with and worried over the upcoming war: they didn't noticed. It was better this way. He felt tired. Each night, he climbed up the stairs to his room, didn't bothered with changing and sank on the bed. He wanted nothing more than to give up to sleep and never awake to this world of distress and melancholy. And each time, he realised with a start his obsessive thoughts. What he considered his egoism. What right had he to wish for death? How could he even dream of letting his friends meet this ordeal alone? When he confronted his reflection in the mirror, it appeared as a traitor.

"You don't want to fight! You're a coward! A traitor! You'd let them die for your own peace!" it said.

Six days, five days… He computed the time left before the battle. He regretted having drunk Severus's potion. He deplored Sirius hadn't insisted more. He rued nobody had stopped him from his biggest mistake. He wished Severus never had invented such a potent formula. He desired this attempt would have failed as so many previous had. He hankered after a counter-potion.

Classes were to go on for all years. Unimportant subjects were dropped. DADA hours had been doubled. Sirius taught half of it. Word of the ex-convict come back hadn't got outside Hogwarts and a handful of aurors that could be trusted. Students were afraid, but still many felt the distinctive thrill of unfulfilled vengeance. Remus smelled it. And he was losing hope. Didn't these children understood what they were running into? Did any of them had the fainter idea of what was war?

Four days, three days… To class and back to room, to class and back to room. He wanted to go back into hiding, to one of his hideaway. The shrieking shack would have been a good suggestion, hadn't it been known by so many people. The full moon was near, the wolf in him was awakening quickly.

"Poltroon! Scaredy-cat! They'll die because of you! You're a fool to think you can restrain me! I'll eat them alive and I'll make you watch and hear! I'll relish sensing your remorse! You're a weak! Judas! Renegate!"

What part was the wolf's words? What part was his own imagination? He couldn't sleep, he couldn't dream, he couldn't even stare into space. They immediately recaptured him. When he traversed corridors, he heard the paintings whisperings. "He'll let them die! He's a killer! An assassin!"

Two days, one day… He hadn't succumbed to the potion. Yet. Never had the wolf been so strong in him. If he survived the war, he wouldn't the beast. Dumbledore had sent them all to sleep for their last night. No need to say few were those who actually were able to. He was in the major number. Harry was with Sirius, after having searched for Draco who had disappeared. Some Gryffindors had made disagreeable remarks at the Slytherin's absence. Had he abandon them? Had he been there to give the Order false information? Harry had brushed past the harsh words without concern.

The wolf longed for release, yearned for liberty, crave for a good kill in the woods. Some human would be perfect. A student, a first year, they were the most tasteful.

**Tuesday, November the 24th – Late in the night**

In the middle of the night, Remus lifted his head from the book he was looking at, unable to read with his brain full of contradictions as it currently was. A slight hollow sound had caught his attention. It came from the corridor. Too faint to be a student, too echoing to be a painting, too real to be a ghost. The man frowned and the wolf growled. The door didn't opened but Remus perceived the thing's penetrating his room. As it threw itself upon him, Moony instinctively brought out his wand and cast a freezing curse where his senses dictated him. It didn't touch and his wand was snatched away from his hand. Then the thing appeared and Remus cursed for not recognising sooner the visitor. Dumbledore had warned them though. But he was so tensed he couldn't discern any longer allies from foes except for when they were in the very front of him.

"Is thatthe wayyou welcome your friends?" the latecomer reproached.

"And since when do the Malfoys willingly consider were-wolves as friends?" he replied bitterly.

Draco bent over him menacingly. The wolf was ready to strike and destroy the menace. It hated being dominated and looked over. It couldn't support it. It was too much, too many painful memories. A fault line and it would launch and kill. But there was no breach to use at its advantage. The boy was a master wizard. Its throat contracted and it growled dully its hatred. Draco advanced one step, obliging Remus to reluctantly take one back if he didn't want to touch. This way, they made it to the small and old bed. By a simple extending of his hand, Draco made the man fall on the mattress. The wolf submitted. Draco crawled up the bed and mounted his professor.

"Be careful not to loose what little respect you just gained back, for this moment shall happen that I would kill you."

Remus could only nod his approbation that Draco disappeared from his sight. He redressed and discovered the blond tranquilly installed on the small desk. The boy observed his elder with satisfaction.

"If I was to possess a harim, you'd be part of it."

Remus's heart leaped in his chest before stopping totally. Of all the things he was waiting for, this one was the last he would ever have imagined.

"Considering aesthetic, you're not what's best; but I value spirit over physic and you have much of it. I'd put you in my prize collection, along with the Weasley bros, Sevy and Luz."

Remus was frozen in shock at the words. Was the boy joking? He didn't seem like it. The easy and light tone was all the more frightening in its simplicity and purity. 'I want to attack. I want to, but I can't.'

"You see, Remy," went on Draco, "I could drink you dry and nobody would move and help you. Nobody would even know or suspect me."

'Drink? No… It's impossible! I would have smelled it!'

"I like your resistance, the way you always come back after the worse happened to you. I like your humility, how you tamed the beast in you. I liked when you yielded to me. Would you let me drink you Remy?"

If Draco had been any nearer, Remus wouldn't have been able to resist the ascendancy. He felt it strongly and Draco was three meters away. The boy hadn't come back toward the bed as he could have, like anxious to accord liberty of thoughts to his victim. For now, Lupin needed to answer. The Malfoys weren't known for their patience. Would he willingly let a vampire drink from him, a were-wolf? They were long-time enemies. Rather, their people were. He'd never been at ease with his fellows. Surely because he'd never been at ease with himself since his transformation. He was alone in a world where he was feared and hated. Laws overwhelmed him. But just now he felt different. He was wanted, desired. It was pleasant, if not real. Acting of its own, his head slowly nodded.

Draco's eyes illuminated. "Truly? You would? I wasn't sure you'd accept. That's great."

Remus was startled again by the sudden change in the tone. It appeared to be the general reaction of a normally constituted person when conversing with Draco.

"Ah, I'm going mad. I shouldn't go so near Harry or I'd finish by killing him. Well, you see, I need you for a secret plot…"

- - - - - - - - - - -

Ginny rolled in Neville's arms, careful not to wake him. Snape had given them all a sleeping potion but she had refused to drink it, willing to be awake for what could be her last night. Neville hadn't either. They had made love. It was their first time.

The finished weeks had been tiring to the core. Classes, training, stress. In less than twenty hours, Voldemort would attack them. Despite their numerous spying, Harry and Draco hadn't discovered much on the dark lord's means. It would be a blind defence. Gryffindors still hadn't understand why the man had warned them of his coming. Either it was madness, or cunning and he would attack at an other time. She wasn't sure which one she preferred. Neither one.

She wasn't afraid. No, not really. After what she had been through in her first year, she had become strong of will and spirit. What she feared most was to be used by Voldemort again.

She had been surprised when learning Malfoy was the heir of Slytherin. The cretinous git finally had some effective power other than bothering and mocking others. It was right that Malfoy had changed a lot during the last years. He'd been much noticed in her fourth year but after that, had done what he could to stay out of everyone's way. Ron had given him many difficulties. She chuckled. There wasn't an evening in which he didn't came back to the Tower all bloodied, dirtied by his own blood or another's, generally Malfoy's. Then there had been the rumours of the Malfoys having killed Charlie. The lack of proof had been unbearable. Her father had stopped at nothing to make the old lords fall. Nevertheless, it hadn't been enough and the dark family still remained. Now, she could fully appreciate her father's failure; and knew that her father thanked the skies that he couldn't succeed.

And now they discovered Malfoy had Gryffindor blood. For a surprise, it was a bolt from the blue. But it was true Malfoy was braver that was they assumed. Rather, past Draco had been brave and had transmitted his courage to present Draco.

She had talked to Harry about the two boys' relation. She had demanded to know if that really was what Harry desired and needed.

"Had it been last year, I would have hated it," her almost brother had explained, "Being protected, cared for. It'd have been intolerable. But this year, I'm able to accept it. Maybe because I know Draco went through much too. He agrees with me taking decisions, fighting in the war as a responsible adult. Well… He wanted to hide some things at the beginning and still don't tell some, but we all have our secrets. Let's say he modified his general attitude for me."

Harry had always needed to be protected and surrounded, even if he refused the evidence. He tried to appear and be strong but it happened some of his friends noted the tiredness of his looks and discovered the truth. Harry never was better than when he knew his friends supported and backed him. Still, he feared for their lives, and with good reason. That was why he went to someone that would appease his anxiety, someone that could defend himself and Harry if danger appeared. To be cared for was a luxury Harry now could afford, and he deserved it.

The young man had spent his sixth year developing his inherited powers and mastering wandless magic. Dumbledore had reserved a small room for him, that he had protected so that Harry wouldn't be detected. It was said the Gryffindor champion was an animagus, but he had never agreed with nor contradicted the rumours. From their side, Hermione and Ginny had done researches and discovered fire was their house's element. That was the way Harry had destroyed Quirrell during his first year. They imagined what powers could Harry have, but he never told. And now, he met his counterpart, the heir of Slytherin, master of water and time.

Ginny was fixed about Harry's feelings. No, what bothered her rather was Malfoy's ones. What had nurtured the Slytherin into loving Harry, as he affirmed he did?

- - - - - - - - - - - - -

"Professor! And what if we add two grams of dried salamander skin per litre?" proposed a twin.

"Let's test!" immediately acted the other.

"Stop it! We have no time left for experiences!" shouted Snape, his nerves on edge. "The bombs must be ready by lunch! Hurry up!"

"Ah… No need to be so touchy…" complained Fred.

"We only wanted to make them more efficient…" outbid George.

"They're effective enough! Prepare them," concluded the dark-haired man. In an other cauldron that was waiting in a corner, he began dropping some roots and carefully measured liquids. He was brewing the material for a gigantic bomb Draco had asked of. The two brothers went quiet and began working on with the production. But, as he hoped for a deserved silence, Snape heard them whispering.

"He's so irritable! No sense of humour at all!"

"Remember he'd rather be at the Manor…"

Severus's hand flinched above the boiling concoction.

"Oh yeah right. With Malfoy and all. I had forgotten they were lovers."

Then it shivered dangerously.

"Ah ah ah… Oooohhh… Luciuuusss…" Fred mimicked.

Snape dropped the vial. The cauldron exploded.

- - - - - - - - - - - - -

_Flash-Back_

_When they found the map, in their first year, they immediately imagined the numerous pranks they would be able to realise with it. Four years later, as Ron and Harry were in their third year, they decided to use it to discover secrets of their hated teachers. Snape was the first on the victims' list. Often had they already noticed how Lucius Malfoy visited the potion master at night. The man had harmed their little sister the past year, it was time for revenge. Besides, their father would forgive them if they were to get caught: he'd be too happy his sons had tried to bring down his nemesis. The simple thing they feared was: what if the two death-eaters were plotting for the dark lord? That was why each time they went on excursion, they let a letter on their bed, saying where they had gone and why. _

_They were used to their dad talking about Malfoy. The way he treated him. Arthur Weasley never respected the man, used to thing of him as a dark wizard and death-eater but didn't really feared him. That's also how his children had learned to consider Lucius Malfoy, especially after his fiasco with Riddle's diary and Dobby's liberation. _

_A night, they decided they would learn nothing by staying in the corridors, they had to discover proof of what took place in the room. When they arrived, they posted ear to the door so that they could ear what was talked about inside. But some seconds after, the door opened and Malfoy emerged before they could hide. _

_They froze on place. The man couldn't not see them, they were in front of the door, in the middle of the corridor. But it wasn't being taken on the spying act which frightened them, it was the man himself. He was Lucius Malfoy, and at the same time, he wasn't. He was dressed only in a shirt and pants but he looked stronger than ever. The twins had the impression if he attacked them, the only person they could run to for help was Dumbledore and even then , they weren't sure._

_The man smirked at their faces, entered the room back and closed the door. The brothers ran to their dormitory. Two days later, they gave Harry the Map._

_What did Lucius Malfoy had that was so special, they didn't know. He looked like the same arrogant man as ever. Maybe because this time, he could afford it. It was… he had smelt power. Like Dumbledore did when he was angered. It was horrifying. That's when they understood the Lucius Malfoy that showed during the day was a parody, a masquerade destined to the public. The man they saw that night is the real Malfoy lord, and he is dangerous. _

_They weren't stupid, they perfectly knew what had been running inside the room. After all, why would Mr Malfoy walk bare feet in Snape's apartments? But never did they imagined using this piece of information against the professor, neither did they narrated their encounter to anyone; because they didn't want to die. And if they told someone, they were sure they'd get killed. Malfoy wasn't someone who joked. And they were certain no-one would be able to stop him from destroying them. That's why they kept their mouths shut since they discovered it. And that's why they will go on this way._

When Malfoy had almost been imprisoned, they had remotely considered revealing it but had decided against it not a day later when the man had been liberated. Wasn't it an other proof of his incredible powers? It was finally proved wrong but the fear had remained.

The night Draco had saved Ginny, they had also understood the son was as powerful as the father, maybe more for Ron had recounted them how he obeyed to his son's orders. They had swore to each other the keeping of this secret that weighted on their shoulders.

- - - - - - - - - - - -

Minerva turned in her bed. Her hairnet had long left her head and freed her long hair. It now lied somewhere on the floor, next to the pillow that hadn't want to put her into a peaceful sleep. Of course, Severus had given her a sleeping potion, as to anyone in the castle, but she had refused to use it. What if the dark lord choose to attack them one night in advance? She needed to wake up at the first sound of battle.

The last war against Voldemort had been decentred and she couldn't remember the war against Grindewald, she had been too young. By so, she had no true experience on the mater. Few had. Dumbledore was the only name that came to her mind.

She wondered what was the headmaster doing. Could he sleep? Was he rather reading? How could anyone sleep tonight in the castle, when it may be their last day together? True, they had to be fit for the battle but still… She'd rather be with someone else, everyone, simply not alone.

Despaired, she got up and put on a dressing gown. If she could meet Peeves, she'd be happy. But the corridors were empty. Paintings themselves seemed devoid of their usual life. She began feeling the characteristic squeezing of her heart and dismissed it. No way she would be afraid in the middle of Hogwarts! Particularly on the way to the headmaster's office!

She passed by the corridor where was Cast's room and saw light coming from under the door. So, he didn't sleep either? He ought to be conversing with this so special people. Officially, Bill. She smiled. Young's love…

Some more meters… She faced the Gargoyle. She opened her mouth to pronounce the password but the sound never passed her lips. An enormous explosion made Hogwarts tremble on his foundations. Panicking, she looked around her. The walls seemed to last. Before she could react, Dumbledore emerged from the office and took the direction toward the dungeons. She followed.

- - - - - - - - - - - -

"What use could I be to you of?" suspiciously wondered Remus.

"I want you to protect Atus tomorrow," revealed Draco.

"Charlie? Why? He risks something?"

"He was Voldemort's prey. The madman would be happy to know him dead."

"I thought all our forces were to be concentrated in killing the dark lord?"

"It's war, Remus, our only aim is to survive."

Lupin's eyes went suddenly tired. "If you say so…"

Draco fell into silent. Then he got up, walked to the wolf and whispered in his ear, "Tell me Remus, aren't you the one that suffered most among them?"

This sudden realisation, it startled him. During the gap of twelve years between James's and Lily's deaths and his teaching in Harry's third year, nobody knew what had befallen over Remus Lupin, the were-wolf. He had simply disappeared after the aurors investigations. To never come back. He had wanted to forget. To put the past away. James's death. Peter's assassination. Sirius's treason. His marking as a monster. He had fled to Transylvania, the land of vampires. Deeply, he had hoped to be removed from the living. Fate had decided he was to be punished. He was captured but not killed. The blood-suckers were known for their cruelty. He tested it. Ten years passed.

Locked in a cell, used as toy and meat by two vampires, he had distinguished above him an owl. His tormentors had stopped and taken the message it was transporting to their master, the sort of people he imagined Dracula was like. Remus learned later the letter had been for him. It had been of Dumbledore. The old wizard had saved him. Indirectly, but he still had. Lupin was proposed a post of teacher in Hogwarts. The master vampire had then written to a friend in Scotland and said friend had answered to let the captive go. Voldemort had projected to use the were-wolf as a second information source in the school. As the were-wolves were strongly hinted toward the dark side and lord, the death-eaters had hoped for a prompt collaboration. Little did they know he would strictly refuse. But it was too late.

Remus had always wondered who had been the vampire contact into Scotland. Draco had been too young at the time. But if the boy was a blood-sucker, what was the possibility that his father also belonged to the race? Specially, as he hadn't smelled Draco, the boy ought to be a vampire-born.

Lupin had discovered the existence of vampire-borns when in Transylvania. Vampires were able to reproduce by the sexual way! The children were generally hidden and trained to hide their ascendancy; that was how this part of the vampiric people went unknown. Vampire-borns possessed three quarters of the strength and senses of a true vampire but without the sun and reflect problems. They feared the Holy Cross and hated garlic, even without being physically harmed by it. About the blood matter, they needed to feed the same way, the same amount and with the same regularity. Lucius so was a vampire. The man also was a death-eater. That was too much for a simple coincidence. Voldemort couldn't possess that much vampires into Scotland. They hold their forest too deep into their heart to live elsewhere. He should thank Malfoy for his delivering one day. Just to see his face…

"In your time," asked Remus, "Before you reincarnated, you made war, didn't you? You're aware of what we'll meet tomorrow?"

"I do. And you do too. I remember, a thousand years ago, when a wizard was seen, he was hunted down to death. You had to fight to survive. And I had no offensive magic to protect my lands. So I killed. I killed as many as I needed, and even more. It was pleasant to impale these invaders on my sword. To look as their blood shed… Black won't die. Take care of Atus," Draco quickly changed subject again.

'Why does he want that? Why does Charlie need special protection? He said he was Voldemort's prey but there are many the dark lord wants to see dead. Does it have a link with Bill? This secret of theirs. What happened exactly to them? I smelt strange vibes emanating from their bodies. Could it be that… Bill always admired Charlie, maybe this change of body meddled his mind. Before, Charlie's appearance must have kept the feelings and thoughts at bay: they were brothers. Now... What are they? Is this why Draco asks that of me? Because he desires to protect whatever special thing Charlie and Bill have? Could they be… No… It would be so… unnatural… Two brothers sleeping together, they'd never have dared. Yet I don't know much of them. And what if Molly makes the same reasoning as me? She'd be horrified! Both boys would be chased from their home. No, I can't have seen right, it's impossible… isn't it?'

"How can you be so sure about Sirius?"

"Some facts hold no secret to me."

"Hum…" He still doubted, "I'll protect Charlie during the war," he finally accepted.

"No, you didn't understand me, Remy. I asked you to protect Atus tomorrow, after the battle, when fighters will regroup and discover which ones of their friends still are alive, and which ones are dead."

As much as the surname had been unnerving at first, he didn't even noticed it now. He tried to register what Draco told him. What danger could there be after the war? "Bill will die?"

"No, I hope not. Lupin, don't ask more. Just promise to protect him. He won't survive if there no-one to help them at that moment."

Remus remained mouth agape. Had he heard correctly? Did Draco had said what he thought he'd been saying? He mumbled his acceptation of the mission. A frozen flow ran the long of his bones. Had the boy said that to Harry? How would the young Gryffindor react when seeing? But he couldn't voice out his fears when the room trembled violently. What happened? Draco quickly got up, muttering under his breath things Lupin couldn't hear. He followed the boy out of the room and the long of corridors. They met with many people that the explosion had attracted and finally arrived to the potions' classroom.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - -

"What happened?" inquired Dumbledore at the brothers when arriving. The twins had been projected out in the part of the room that was still in a single piece. The other half had been blown off by the power of the explosion, giving a beautiful sight of the stared night. The ex-present professor wasn't to be seen.

"We don't know!" exclaimed George, "We were brewing a potion when it exploded behind us. We must find Snape!!"

"No need," came a dark voice from under the ruins. A darkened, dusty Severus made his apparition, his clothes ripped in shreds, his arms bleeding from numerous cuts. "I have enough! I don't care what happen, I'm going!"

"And where would you be going?" inquired a newcomer.

Snape stopped advancing toward the still alive fireplace and slowly turned back. At that point, Harry and Sirius arrived and observed a frightened potion master in front of a reproachful Draco.

"Hum… To the Manor… my lord."

"Really? Hadn't I given you an order to execute?"

"… Yes… But it failed and there isn't enough raw material to produce another bomb of this large-scale," he justified.

"Of course, there isn't! You made sure of it!"

"… It was an accident…"

"But your responsibility," recalled Draco.

To all observers, Snape was in a tight corner. To the man himself, he was in one of the seven Hells. The potion hadn't failed, he had failed it. And Draco knew it.

"I know… I'm sorry." In an eerie silence, the man kneeled to his student. "I'm sorry," he repeated.

"Do you know why I ordered you to create this particular bomb, Severus?"

"No, my lord," admitted the interrogated, head bowed.

"It was to protect you."

"Wha… To protect me? But why?"

"I planned to send you to the Manor, but the faction I wanted to entrust you with is a difficult one. You had to be able to provoke the fall of the undergrounds' entrance without a wand if need was. Else you would get killed. Should I consider you have failed and force you to remain here?"

Snape's was agape. If they had been in the broad light of a day, Sirius would have seen the person he loathed the most on the verge of tears. He would have find it pitiful and laughed. Then, he'd have thought back on it and pitied the man. But they were the night and he couldn't see the pearls ready to fall. So, he only wondered what there was in Malfoy Manor that Snape was so eager to go back to. He remembered, long ago, when they were in their first years at Hogwarts, how the little outcast Snape used to follow the known headboy Malfoy everywhere. How he looked up at his elder, and how they made fun of him for that. And he understood what they accused him of had been right. Only now it wasn't an accusation: Snape wasn't licking Malfoy's boots, they were lovers.

"No… please no…," begged the proud Slytherin. He didn't care about reputation anymore. If he was to die, it would be at the Manor, with Lucius.

Taking pity of his professor, Draco kneeled next to him and lifted some dark locks of hair that half hid his eyes. "Severus, when will you learn I am not Voldemort?"

The man didn't reply for he didn't know what to say. Of course, Draco wasn't Voldemort. But he'd been at the dark lord's service for so long that he wasn't able to make the difference.

"I can assure you that you won't die during the war, but if you commit suicide before it even begins, I can't promise anything," went on Draco. The boy took out of his pocket two small pendants. One was a vampire's canine, the second a dragon.

"The first is for you. Give the other to Bill, it's Atus's. I'll change my orders to my father. But please… take care of you. If you die, I'll be forced to bring you back as a ghost to save the world from Lucius's wrath."

Severus let a weak smile show and faintly nodded. Then he took flow powder from a jar that had fallen on the floor and disappeared through the fireplace.

What had took place, few were the ones that could pretend understanding. Among them was the headmaster, that rejoiced in thinking back on his conversation with Mad-Eye. He'd joined the man, asking that aurors don't penetrate the Malfoy lands, were they to intercept magic coming from it. Voldemort, what with this big ego of his, could have suddenly decided to attack the Ministry at the same time than the two other poles of battle. For the major part, it was only an excuse. He didn't regretted it an once: Severus was vulnerable to the aurors, due to his dark mark, and was Dumbledore to die during the battle, the potion master's biggest defender would disappear. He trusted Lucius with Severus's care but no-one could imagine what the aftermath of the battle would be.

- - - - - - - - - - - - -

Lucius had felt his lover enter the Manor. He wasn't surprised: Draco had warned him some days ago that he would send Severus. The high lord didn't mind it, on the contrary: he preferred having Snape underhand, were things to turn out badly. His son being far away was already enough for his apprehensive heart. Contrarily to many of his generation, he had strong notions of war and organisation. He also was aware of the powerful means Voldemort would require. During the past year, the dark lord had fumed against his almost defeat against Dumbledore and doubled his efforts, as his ego had taken a serious blow. He had more death-eaters than ever, the were-wolves and the dementors. Not to forget his basilisk pet: Nagini.

He had wondered why he attacked Malfoy Manor now. Why not bring down Hogwarts and attack them later? The answer was simple: it was the special reinforcements Draco had provided the Manor some weeks ago: the dragons. There wasn't much of them, but it was enough to bring down at least a hundred fighters. They would particularly take care of the dementors, which they didn't fear. Voldemort needed the school's battle pole to be free of them, for the dragon master would have commanded them. If the dark lord attempted to kill Draco, the dragons being at proximity would become enraged and almost impossible to stop. That represented too many risks.

Severus penetrated the library, where Lucius was finishing his battle plan with Bill.

"Professor! What happened?" exclaimed the young man at the poor sight of his former teacher.

"Nothing," grumbled the wounded one, coming next to the vampire.

The blond man laid a finger on a dark spot of Snape's cheek then sniffed it and smirked. "Isn't that the remainder of a special potion you were to prepare, maybe?"

Severus looked daggers at his lover, "I don't want any commentaries on this," he hissed, causing the lord to raise brows and to forward him to a shower.

Five minutes later, Malfoy decided they had finely worked and it was time to rest. When hidden by shadows, Bill smiled at the false reason Lucius had invoked to join his lover in the bathroom. It pleased him nonetheless for, with little chance, Charlie still was awake at Hogwarts…

_**Flash-Back: Winter holidays of the sixth year.**_

_Prostrated above his son's body, Lucius hadn't moved since their apparating. He had never been particularly kind to his offspring, and used to spoiled him because he didn't want a brat under his feet. Then Draco had gone to Hogwarts and disappointed him by not being first in everything, as himself had been. He'd been shocked when his son had dared menacing him not six months previously, and slightly afraid at the news he'd been put under an Imperius curse without realising. He wasn't gentle or tender, or even remotely warm, but there was one thing he knew: since his birth, he'd never cease loving his little boy. _

_Seeing him fighting the dark lord then falling from the green curse had definitely broken any barriers that stopped him from showing it, and silent and cold tears watered his cheeks. His son being a vampire had saved him: the family curse had protected his son from the Avada Kedavra. What could be killed that was already dead? He felt a soft and clement hand caressing his hair, as a compassionate mother do her children, and heard a sweet voice whispering the body under him was alive._

"_I know," he murmured back._

"_Then why do you still cry for me?"_

"_Because I can't stop." He shamed admitting it, but it calmed him to voice it out. The happiness to have his son with him was too much to bear, and the tears soothed his fears and spirit._

"_It's fine," the humane and considerate voice added, "It means you're truly mine."_

At that time, Lucius had thought it was an allusion to Draco being the Slytherin heir. Only when Dracken's secret had been revealed, had he understood: he was Draco's father, but also his descendant, his little child. Their relation didn't become anymore complicated: they knew how to keep their respective roles, and when to modify their behaviour.

**Flash-Back: Summer of the fourth year.**

_Night had fallen and only some beams of moonlight vaguely illuminated the room. What had happened? He was in a bed and a person was curled up in the blankets next to him. Slight light glints in the hair contradicted the Severus theory. Still, he didn't remember being drunk enough to go to Narcissa. This woman disgusted him. Besides, there was too many risks she would discover this little secret of his. By the way… No… It was impossible… How could Merlin allow such a thing… Lucius brutally turned on the mattress and lifted the sheets. He was rewarded with a groan of displeasure at the disturbance. He froze in shock. He had bedded his son, his own flesh and blood. Not only that, he'd fed of him. When he was supposed to let the vampire in the smaller body grow at his own pace! How could he have been so stupid? He should have gone away at the first scent of blood! _

_What would be Draco's reaction when awaking? Of course, the boy had taken quite an active part in the sex, but it was normal, given his developing vampire instincts and hormones. Lucius's own actions, however, were unforgivable. What if, by giving in to Draco's need, he'd aggravated it? Was it irreversible? Had he condemned Draco to a life of physical desire? It couldn't be! No Malfoy could be seen this way in society! It would result in a scandal! Fearing the explanations at his son's waking, Lucius fled the room._

_The day after, as he examined papers in his office, he heard a little knock on his door. He acknowledged it and the large door opened, letting place to a blonde boy, his flushed face and his eyes that only looked at the floor._

"_I take it you consider yourself as cured?" he asked in a dark tone. During the rest of the night and the morning, he hadn't come to a correct answer about what to do. He so used the voice that controlled the best his terrors. A voice that Draco dreaded like plague. _

"_Yes father." The response had been nothing much than a whisper and would Lucius having not been a vampire with sharpened senses, he wouldn't have heard it. Sure that his son wouldn't see him, he allowed himself to rub his eyes. _

"_Do you have a question?" The time for them would come sooner or later. It was better to resolve the matter quickly._

_But to his astonishment, the boy answered by the negative. _

"_You haven't any question?" he repeated as to make sure his ears hadn't lead him astray. But the boy didn't corrected. Lucius had heard well._

"_Even about some family secret?" he insisted. Again, the answer was the same. "Why are you here then?" he finally inquired, desperate._

_Draco looked even more at the floor. "To apologise."_

_Lucius wondered if he was to congratulate the boy for his courage - he came to his father after getting fucked by him, knowing not what the man's intentions had been - or to punish him for even thinking of excusing - Malfoys simply don't apologise. He settled for neutral. "Why?"_

"_For inducing you into… into something… you didn't want…" The boy achieved with care. He didn't want to anger his father more than his next revelations would naturally do._

_Lucius sighed imperceptibly. "You aren't responsible. You didn't know." He finally reassured his son. _

"_I did."_

_The two words blocked his respiration. What did Draco just say? "You what?"_

"_I already knew… that you were a vampire. I had seen you with professor Snape…"_

_How come? When had he been so careless that Draco could have approached them without him smelling it? But then… "When you cut your hand…"_

"_I made it on purpose…"_

_This boy had deliberately misled and deceived him. More, he'd tricked him! How dare he? As Lucius didn't reacted, Draco hesitantly raised his eyes to look at his father. The man fumed. "In your room! You disrespectful child! You're not allowed out till September!"_

_The truth was: Lucius was inwardly greatly relieved at his discovery. First, he hadn't taken Draco into unknown territory and second, he was spared from the task of explaining vampire sex to his son. He still remembered his own father, entombing young Lucius under books on the matter, for the man didn't know how to begin the history. That had resulted in his total incomprehension of the subject and a twelve years old vampire lost in a muggle village. _

_**Flash-Back: Lucius's second year. **_

_The Yule Ball, formidable event at Hogwarts. Normally so happy and joyous. This year's one was supposed to bring Lucius's change in life. For three years had he felt the transformations in his body, and for as much time had he been forced to drink potions in order to lessen the shown effects. It didn't prevent his biggest nightmare from becoming true: he was morphing in the middle of the Hall. All the students around him aroused his hunger and need for blood. Dumbledore was discussing in a corner with the newly named transfiguration teacher: professor McGonagall. He went out, taking care of not running in order not to awake suspicions, and was stricken by the cold wind. Taking some steps toward the greenhouse, he enjoyed the calm and silence of the night. That was before his sharp ears caught noise of two students enjoying the pleasure of flesh in the herbology classroom, and he shivered. He took out of his pocket the last vial of blood his father had sent and bothered opening it. Cries of desire meddled with his mind and he fought not to direct his steps in the direction of the happy young ones. A particularly strong moan made his nerves strike, and when he opened his eyes again, his right hand had crashed the fragile potion container. He cursed. What was he going to eat? He licked his fingers for what remained of the blood, drinking also some of his that had poured from his wounded hand. Too late did he realised the mistake: there was only enough blood to accrue his desire and intensify his senses. He needed a prey. _

_The calling of some friends of his send him frantic. Where was he to go? If they approached any nearer, he would kill them. Word of his nature would spread through Hogwarts, Dumbledore would make sure to use it against his father, Voldemort's strongest follower. Never would the headmaster understand their condition was the particular reason they joined the dark side rather than remained neutral: how were they to survive faced with the ministry's many decrees against vampires? Only Voldemort would be able to bring them down. Delirious, he ran in the forbidden forest, outside of Hogwarts walls and apparated. He had began learning it during the last holidays, despite his father's forbidding it. _

_Feeling he had stopped, he sighed. Then cries of horror made him looked around him. It wasn't the Manor. It weren't even wizards. Muggles were pointing at him with a strange rod. He smirked and lifted his wand, but a noise like thunder startled him and made him stop his movement. He stared at the staff's end in amazement and fear: it was fuming. Lowering his eyes, he saw a hole in the wooden floor, just between his feet. The rod now was turned in his belly's direction and he took some steps back. Terror overloaded his brain. Muggles didn't possess magic! How could they do it?! What would happen if the man did the same on his body? Would that kill him? Could a muggle kill a wizard? He wanted to turn away and run but it would be presenting his back to an enemy. He retreated till he bumped in a wall. He hoped it could have been a door, but he couldn't verify without letting the man out of his sight. He gripped tightly his wand in his hand. _

"_What are you?" asked the woman next to who probably was her husband._

"_A wizard…" he whispered as an answer._

"_Right! And your eyes? Your fangs? You're a fucking vampire! It's you that kill the region's animals!"_

_He didn't even thing of defending. All he heard was that they knew. They would lock him and word would spread wide! He couldn't let them, he couldn't… He growled. The man shot. Dolour took him in the chest. He launched at the muggle and clawed his eyes. The woman cried out of fear and he silenced her by ripping her neck. The man shot again at random, the vampire lacerated his face till the muggle felt on the floor next to his wife. He was hungry, his stomach asked for food. The strong odour of blood enticed his senses. That was when he spotted two frightened eyes that had observed the scene from behind a half-closed door. Noticing he'd been discovered, the spy bolted the door. It didn't last faced with the wand and the vampire penetrated the small room. There was no-one. He sniffed and drew out the intrude from under the bed. It was a boy, maybe one year less than him. Someone that would grow with hatred and one day come to avenge his parents. He bit the white neck. _

_Half an hour later, he left the house, trembling. Having eaten, his brain had recuperated his full faculties and he'd grasped the reality of his situation: he'd killed two muggles, then devoured their son. He had acted like a monster. Panicked, he'd searched the small house for any other occupant. Hopefully, there had been none. Where could he be? He had to go back to Hogwarts, curfew was soon, the Slytherin head would search for him. Suspicions would rise. In the morning, muggles would discover the blood spree that had taken place in their neighbourhood. The muggle politicians would call the wizard's Ministry to account. People would talk, understand. Raising his wand, he muttered a spell and the house blew up in flames. He apparated. After four attempts, he was back at Hogwarts's border. He ran to his dormitory to change and went back to the Great Hall. Nobody important had noticed his absence. Some of his dorm-mates had, he told them he'd been meeting a Ravenclaw. They grinned. The truth never was suspected. _

_From this night on, he wasn't the same. He worked on becoming stronger, more powerful, more dangerous. And he never forgot the fear he had felt when faced with the muggle man. _

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

**Wednesday, November, the 25th **

They all had gone back to sleep. At two o'clock, Draco still wasn't up. Worried, Harry went to the small room in the Slytherin's dungeons he'd slept into a month ago. The door was closed. Hermione, that had accompanied him, cast an Alohomora to open it. It failed. Blaise, who was observing them from the sofa in front of the fireplace, smirked and laughed. She admonished him to come and do better. He did. The door moved and the common room was suddenly invaded with fumes.

Thinking the room was in fire, they anxiously ran in. Draco was lying on the bed, hands on his belly. He was smiling contentedly. He didn't move, he didn't breathe. When they checked, even his heart had stopped beating. But he seemed so peaceful they didn't dare moving him. They didn't know what to do. But the question was answered by itself when Draco got up, as naturally as ever. They checked again, he was fine, thought seemed slightly drunk. None of them understood and none of them asked. When they arrived in the Great Hall, full of professors, parents and students, Sirius didn't let pass the opportunity to make fun of Draco.

"What did you do?" he asked, "You look like you're shoot."

The Slytherin smiled and said back, "My being shoot is your passport to life."

"Really? So you won't succeed in sending the Avada straight to me?"

By way if an answer, Draco only yawed. It was true he gave the impression of being drugged. Was that the result of these fumes they had found him immersed in? Dumbledore's eyes twinkled.

"Draco," he beckoned, "Why did Voldemort send a declaration of war?"

The young man looked directly at the old wizard and smirked, "You thing my brain is fucked up? Let me tell you it's not. You'd rather let me in peace or I may forget to take your paper for life." He yawed again. "Merlin, I'm tired. I exaggerated the herbs… Shit that hurts…" He rubbed his temples.

Mrs Weasley's face showed her being shocked at such foul language in front of the headmaster, but the man didn't appear as minding. He went on smiling. "You didn't answer my question," he recalled.

"And why do you want to know? That'll bring you nothing more. Besides, I'm certain you have the explanation, so why bother asking? That amuses you to see me suffering, is that it? Well, I agree, I'm suffering… a lot… Shit… The junk ought to be splitting his sides laughing. I hate him… Asmodeus! Remind me to make him die slowly tonight. Well… Fine… I'll tell you… Rather, I'll tell Harry and the lot of you are authorised to hear me out."

A glass appeared in his hand and he drank whatever it contained before going on. A grimace of his indicated the auditory it wasn't pleasant. "What Voldemort wants for now isn't the world. He's logical. He knows that if he wants to resist the muggles' arsenal, and the wizard rebels, he'll have to possess strong fortresses. Some places in England are known for their incredible protections. The best of them is Malfoy Manor, for the reason I gave you one or to days ago. You remember? The pact with the lands. Second in rank but the most famous, Hogwarts. If I say second, despite the forbidden forest, the unplottable matter and the many charms the founders placed on, it's because none of them will resist the death-eaters. It's still second, thanks to three of the founders that died here. Their spirits are powerful and they protect the school."

"But…" cut Mr Weasley, "Why is Malfoy Manor more protected than Hogwarts? The founders were the most powerful wizards!"

"Yup. But their descendants left the school. They came to it for their studies then never came back. The grounds feel like they've been abandoned. On the contrary, every generation of Malfoy came to life then died on our lands. I was the first and I am the last. The Malfoy estate is stronger than ever because it feeds of the time loop I created. You see… When you die with heirs, you hand them down a part of your acquired knowledge in life, and the rest to the land. Then they transmit it to their heirs, et caetera… I was born on the Malfoy lands and inherited my two fathers' powers then I died and left it partly to the lands, partly to my son. Now, I was born again and inherited what I left a thousand years ago to my family, but with all the modifications and amelioration my descendants brought to it. By getting my memory back, I recuperated the original patron of the Malfoy family's mind. I now possess both of them, the past one and the present one. I'm linked to the Earth in past and present and reinforced more than it was ever possible the pact with our grounds. I represent the lands' life. Hogwarts doesn't have such a icon. That's the major reason for its weakness. Am I clear?"

The Great Hall was silent.

"I deeply appreciate when I explain something and there's no-one competent enough to follow me… Forget everything I said. Why did I say that by the way? Oh… That's right… The strong places of England. Third, there's Azkaban, and fourth but far behind, the Ministry. Now, why does he attacks them all at once: I won't explain, it's war matter, too complicated for you. Finally, the most important part. Why did Voldemort take the time and energy to declare us war? Malfoy Manor and, even if less, Hogwarts, possess the spirit of dead people in their grounds. They protect the inhabitants. It would do the junk no good to just run and sack the lands. He wants that, of course, but not only. What he truly wishes for is to reign over the lands, to gain their support."

"I don't see any relation with a declaration of war," mused Ron.

"Because, weasel, you didn't let me finish. The codes of ancient magic have to be respected. If Voldemort declares war to us, inhabitants, and prove the lands we're too pitiful to protect them, they will change hands. It's only a matter of spirit."

"And what if they don't want to change hands?" inquired suspiciously Harry.

"Well… That's the case we're in. Voldemort has to break the champions. If he exhibits the defeated ones during a ceremony of victory celebration, the lands are forced to obey him."

"That's horrible…" commented Mrs Weasley.

"That's ancient magic, what you call dark magic for the most part."

"I wonder something," cut through Dumbledore, "If some of us die here, won't their spirit be able to help the lands resisting?"

"Are you planning on sacrificing?" smirked Draco, "You can forget it. By declaring us war, Voldemort assured none of our spirits will go to the lands if we die during the battle."

"Where will they go then?"

"To your birth place."

"And yours to Malfoy Manor…" the headmaster added, impressed.

"Exactly! That's the meaning of old properties, our ancestors were intelligent. If we die during a battle, nothing can prevent our spirits to go and help the remaining fighters. And an angered newly spirit is very strong…" Draco let the end in suspense.

"Why did Voldemort declared war to Malfoy Manor, then, if it would be of no use?" pondered Harry.

Draco grinned, "Because, like Dumbledore, he wasn't aware of this last part."

"Last question: by 'break the opponent', what do you mean?" finished the headmaster.

Draco coughed slightly. "You made sure to ask this one, don't you? Trust me, you don't want to know… If one of you is captured, just commit suicide… Compared to the breaking of a spirit, the Cruciatus is a children toy. I trust my father or you, Dumbledore, would resist one hour or two, but the rest would fall within minutes."

"But why not simply kill us?" intervened again Harry.

"Because he has to destroy our resistance to take from our souls whatever made us champions. If we're dead, that's impossible. That's why he won't kill you, or Dumbledore. That's a point for us."

"And you? What will happen to you?" the Gryffindor worryingly asked.

"That's simple. He'll take me to Malfoy Manor and force me to assist to my father's breaking. To protect him from further harm, I'll perform the ritual of transmission. Then Riddle'll use everything he has to break me. It'll take some time but he'll eventually succeed."

"You're all barbaric," commented Black.

"Not at all… In the past, many lands were possessed by high lords. These laws prevented the grounds from suffering sacking. When the champions were captured or killed, the war ended. The people remained unharmed after that. Pity Voldemort isn't one of us or I would have asked for a champion fight. Only some of us would have fought…" Draco sighed and it was obvious some memories were hurting him.

"You were captured, don't you?" questioned Hermione gently.

"I was…" Draco was blanch. "That's how I died…"

"But… your lands…" couldn't understand Harry.

"They lived. And… Even if I'd rather not tell you the rest, I suppose you have a right to know…" His eyes were sad when looking at his cherished one. The Gryffindor had come nearer and they were almost touching. He wanted to know who had killed the man he loved. "You know my father was adopted by Salazar? Many feared him for that. It became panic when he was made high lord. His lands were beautiful and powerful. If one of his descendants was to declare them war, they wouldn't be able to fight him back. To prevent that, they waited some years after the death of Slytherin, grouped and attacked my grounds. We had no magic. We lost immediately. But, even without powers, I had more knowledge than them. I used an ancient dark ritual that didn't require magic. It made my son the new ruler and allowed my spirit to take form. My son was four at that time. I had hidden him with the other children. The attackers felt me perform the ritual but they couldn't react in time. My spirit was free of any curse that had been put on my physical form. I killed their armies and families… It marked the beginning of the hatred for Malfoys…"

"But you were attacked!" defended faintly the green-eyed young man.

"Yes… Still, I made a massacre… Harry… The assailants were the Gryffindors. They were your ancestors…"

"Ah… But… How… If you killed them all, How can I be here?" he asked in a whisper.

"Because in the last of their castles, after I had slaughtered everyone, I discovered a woman with a newborn… But her love for her son was so strong and the baby reminded me so much of Merian that I couldn't bring me to slay them. They were the only survivors of the family…"

Harry forced his breath to slow down and his heart to calm. This was more than he had expected. Draco had… destroyed his entire family… It was to defend… He had only make sure they wouldn't attack his lands again… It was the common way at that time. His ancestors had tried to destroy the Malfoys, they had been no better… "I… deeply appreciate that you told me all of that… You could have hidden it and I would never have known… Thank you."

"Draco," interrupted Dumbledore, "Why not use this ritual again?"

"Because it requires something you aren't ready to give. If we lose and I'm taken to my lands, I'll consider it, but not before."

"What does it require Draco?" softly asked Harry, looking deeply in his love's eyes.

"… The soul of your mate… I sacrificed my wife to save my children…"

"But you have no mate, now!" Harry lowered his voice, he didn't want his private affairs to be known from all of the school. "How would you do?"

"I'm not a virgin, Harry. There's someone's name I can call to a ritual of binding, even if he's absent." Draco also lowered his eyes, fearing Dumbledore would force and plunge in his mind. This name, he would never reveal it, for it would horrify them. This name was his father's.

Hopefully, Harry was too embarrassed and reddened to ask. The others felt it wasn't their place. Besides, if one of them wanted to add anything, he never get the occasion: Draco had raised his head and smiled broadly. His eyes were lost in the air and he exclaimed, "Shit! They really came!" He laughed and got up from the table he'd been sitting on, directing toward the outside doors. All sights on him, he opened them broadly. Three people were outside, covered with cloaks that showed none of them. Draco embraced them. "I never imagined you'd really come."

"A promise is a promise. It's good to see you alive," answered who seemed to be the most important of the three, the two others staying slightly behind, in a guard pose.

"Who are you?" cut menacingly Sirius, wand in hand. At the entrance of the newcomers, Remus had growled in defence and retreated next to his friend. These ones surely had to be enemies for him to react so brutally.

The first stranger emitted a little laugh and advanced on Remus, Sirius's wand still on him. "I see you still remember me, wolf." He came nearer and nearer to Remus, whom crisped and contracted in against a table. He growled his hatred of the stranger. Black made to stupefy him but his wand flied from his hand into Draco's. The newcomer made one step too much and Lupin launched.

But the man had foreseen the attack, so much Remus's face had lost assurance and slowly taken, under an upsurge of fear and rage, a ferocious expression, almost bestial, that announced the revolt, so long contained. He caught Lupin's arm and forcedly wrought it, and the wolf twisted in pain.

"Alex!" shouted Draco, "Stop that!"

The man immediately did and Remus escaped the strong arms by some steps. The stranger inspired him a feeling strange and complex in which there was terror, rancour, unintentional admiration and also the confuse intuition that, despite all his efforts, he would never stamp out such an adversary. He fought back by duty and pride, but with these eternal fear and expectation to be defeated.

Dumbledore coughed to gain attention. "May we know who you are?"

"Of course, I forgot to introduce, where are my manners?" exclaimed the newcomer, "I am Alexander, these are Marc and Cal," he indicated his two followers, "We're vampires."

There was cries in all the room and the global population of Hogwarts receded by five meters.

"Your people declared neutral. You shouldn't be here," commented the headmaster, not frightened the less.

"We left our tribe. You'd better win or we'll be impaled for treason when going back."

"Hum… I suppose Mr Malfoy vouch for you?"

"I do," answered the mentioned. At a movement of Draco's head, Zabini came forward and shared hands with the vampire. "I commit you with the commanding of Slytherins. You'll have to answer if one is harmed."

Both nodded, understanding their full responsibilities.

"Mr Malfoy," called Dumbledore when the important people had joined around a table. "Should we wait for another surprise of yours?" His tone was severe but by his look, you could see he still was pleased with the turn of events.

"Truly, you can and you felt it. I love my children: they never deceive me."

He hadn't finished talking that new screams echoed from the outside grounds. He smiled earnestly when a little group of death-eaters entered the Great Hall. All got up and took out their wands. Some curses flied that were thwarted. To everyone's astonishment, Pansy came running from stairs and into the arms of one of them, soon imitated by some Slytherin children. Only seconds passed that the masked men were kneeling in front of Draco.

"We pledge loyalty to the heir," they recited.

"Fine, we're all present, now," grinned Draco. "Take out your cloak, all of you, you'd be killed by error. What does he has?"

"To Malfoy Manor, two hundred death-eaters and fifty dementors. To Hogwarts, two hundred and fifty death-eaters, eighty dementors, forty were-wolves. But he may decide to change the numbers when seeing we've gone."

"No, I don't thing so. The repartition is good. He'll keep it. Beasts?"

"To Hogwarts, Nagini, runespoors…"

"Runespoors?" cut Draco, surprised, "Why?"

"They're classed four in the book of fantastic beasts by Scamander," explained Hermione, "They're very dangerous."

"Not at all," contradicted Dumbledore, "Them being dangerous is only a rumour."

"Voldemort surely thought to use them to frighten the young ones," proposed Harry, "They're frightening when you don't know them."

"How do you know that? And what are runespoors?" inquired Ron, worried about this new knowledge of his friend.

"I met one last year. There are snakes with three heads. You only need to cast on them a mind meddling charm. The spell is Intricatus."

"You heard, all of you?" shouted Draco in the students' direction, "It's Intricatus, train while the big ones talk! What does he has besides that?"

"It's almost all," went on Mr Parkinson, "He also has a Graphorn."

"What?" cried many at the table. From the fantastic bestiary, 'Graphorn is a large, greyish-purple creature which lives in the mountains of Europe. Graphorns have two extremely sharp horns. They are extremely dangerous animals. Graphorn horns are useful for potions and Graphorn hide is even tougher than dragons' and also repels spells.'

"Ah, shut up!" ordered Draco. "Harry, you can take care of it?"

"I think we trained enough, yes."

"Great. I'll take Nagini and the were-wolves. The adults, you'll have the death-eaters. Dumbledore, contain Voldemort as long as you can."

"So you believe he isn't powerful enough to kill him?" inquired Black.

"Nuance, I know he isn't."

"You have no idea how powerful he became," instructed Mr Davis, "He called for ancestors' spirits."

"Wait wait wait," cut Black, "Before, I'd like to hear why you changed side."

"There are two reasons," explained Nott, his hands starting shivering on the table and his face losing all colours, "The first is we all have children at Hogwarts. We don't want to have to fight and kill them. The second is… We don't want to have to fight him." He didn't move the head but his eyes imperceptibly flickered toward Draco.

"The brat?!" almost shouted Sirius, "Why?"

"You can't understand," said Nott, white as a ghost, "You weren't there when they fought…"

Black then remembered what Harry had told him about this battle between Voldemort and Malfoy. How it had been so horrible death-eaters had all fled. By the way, Malfoy didn't seem too concerned over what they were saying, and was currently proposing chocolate frogs to his godson, happily licking at one at the same time. "Malfoy," he called, earning the boy's attention, "What is your animagus form?"

"Me? I don't know."

"You morphed and you don't know?" smiled Dumbledore.

"Yes. It simply doesn't exist. It is… hum…" he sucked more of his chocolate, "You can see me as a Liondragon but my muzzle is longer, maybe the mix between a Swedish Short-Snout and a Peruvian Vipertooth… Maybe… I competed against an Horntail some weeks ago. T'was fun. We were fifteen meters away one from the other and we breathed fire. I got half roasted… Lol…"

"To hope measuring up against an Horntail… You're mad…" mused Ron.

Draco looked at him, a gleam in the eye. "I was half roasted, I said… There was nothing left of her."

"You killed an Horntail?!!!!" exclaimed Atus, "They're protected!"

"Yep. But me more. I'm unique. So… Voldemort's trained? Great. I did a pitiful score last time. I have to do better. Did he mentioned Nundu? Occamy? Quintaped?"

"The quintaped, yes. But they didn't want to leave their Island," informed Parkinson.

"Cool. One day I'll go and search for one. I'll put it in weasel's bed…"

Ron reddened and clutched his hand, resisting the urge to put a fist in Malfoy's head. What took him from it was the dragon danger. He didn't want to die before the battle, it would be far too insulting.

"Well, if that's all, I'll go and sober up. Ah! Parkinson, you forgot something, for the Manor…" When the man's eyes grew huge in incomprehension, Draco smirked, "Something more dangerous than two hundred death-eaters," then went away. "Lucius's better take care of himself…"

- - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Water fell on his bare shoulders, ran the long of his chest then dripped from his legs. He relished in his element, nourished of its proximity and absorbed its properties. Two hours more and night would come. He would fight to death against invaders and against himself, for each wound would render the harmed one a potential prey to his hunger. In a half daze, he heard a human enter the bathroom and undress, then smelled his lover at his side. Tempting hands massed soap on his back and he enjoyed the erotic feeling. Shoulders then sides and back bone, the caress made him turn, eyes closed. He didn't need to open them, water was his sight. He encircled the nude body within his arms and pressed fully against it. A gasp escaped both of them and they rubbed one against the other to increase the sensations. He lifted the head to prevent hurting his visitor: from the depths of his throat emerged light flames. The temperature heated up in the small room and water became steam. The body he clasped was shuddering with desire and vibrating of intense purrs. Blood palpitated in the sweet veins and he felt his canines grow. The boy wouldn't resist, it would be easy food. His fingers travelled to fondle his victim. The boy's head bent backwards in pleasure, presenting a fine and untouched neck. He growled in appreciation, opened his mouth, revealing glinting fangs, and compressed the pulsing flesh between his lips.

"Stop me, please, you must stop me now…" he whispered.

"I can't, I need you," moaned the boy.

A body was pushed against a shower's wall and its legs lifted up to rest around a muscled waist. No preparations, they were made for each other, and the two beings were united as one. Slow, languishing and erotic movements in an ocean of warm love and desire. Their spirits were cascading, their mind more misted up than the outside.

'Father, if you love me, don't let me bit him…'

- - - - - - - - - - - - -

He had stopped the running water and taken the hard breathing body to his bed. Salazar had given him enough willpower to prevent him from devouring the offered prey. It had saved Harry. Had he sucked one single drop of blood, he wouldn't have stopped. The young man opened his eyes and looked at him. He needn't any word to transmit his love.

"You captured me the very first time I saw you," Draco murmured. And it was true. Harry had been on his mind since that fateful day at Mrs Walkins' shop. First it had been revenge then simply hate. In his sixth year, with memories coming back, he had forgotten about his loathing. The young boy was suffering alone, strong and proud. He had spied on him, had seen him developing his powers, and had resisted revealing himself and defying the learner. He had felt physical desire and spiritual need to possess. He had discovered sides of Harry Potter he could have used against him. He didn't. The boy intrigued him. Then he had saved Charlie Weasley. The man had shown him Gryffindors could be pleasant. Finally he had noticed, the looks, the smell, the behaviour… His prey wanted him. He had took his resolution: he would seduce the boy who had made his life a hell. He did. Harry Potter was powerful, hot-spirited and commanding, yet kind, sweet and fragile. Draco had been seduced back.

"Draco," inquired the boy in his arms, "Do your vampire friends hate Remus?"

The Slytherin laughed softly, "No, Harry, that's the contrary. Two of them don't care about him. Alex will protect him if need comes."

The Gryffindor nodded. "Fine. I don't want Remus to get hurt… It is time to go but I can't get to got up. I dread what will happen tonight…"

"Nothing will happen tonight. If we follow closely the battle plan, we will survive. Do you trust me Harry?"

The boy smiled, "Of course I do."

"Then trust that I will come back to kiss you to heaven. Remember: nothing is never sure, only Time will prove itself to you."

"You already said that to me… Why is it so important?"

"You will understand, Harry. Not now, but one day. Be patient."

- - - - - - - - - - - -

Fate had put these men and women in a battle which none side would come back unscathed from. Few were to be the dead condemned, but harsh were to remain the horrible memories of the ones they had lost.

Death-eaters encircled Hogwarts, a numerous group of dementors in the first rank. In the middle of this sea of masked fighters, Voldemort reigned. Next to him, his faithful pet, the female basilisk Nagini. Behind, under the dark shadow of an enormous tree, was the Graphorn, waiting for the enemy the dark lord had promised him. A horde of still human were-wolves was facing another entrance of the school: the greenhouse. Runespoors weren't to be seen.

First to third years had been assigned to keeping Hogwarts walls from collapsing. Fourth years were for a half forming an organised infirmary in Hogwarts's underground, the other half ready to go on the battle field to take the wounded away. Fifth to seventh years Gryffindors, Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs plus the parents would be fighting under the direction of the Weasleys, father and sons, and the competent teachers. They would prevent death-eaters from entering the Hall. The Slytherins would capture them in the rear, thanks to the secret passages.

Stars hidden by clouds were watching the upcoming battle of the humans. Draco kissed Harry a last time and went to his place. They didn't say good bye, it was bad omen. The blonde penetrated the Herbology classroom, two vampires after him. The outside were-wolves smelled them and growled. They hissed in return and morphed.

Blaise and his classmates were huddled up at the end of the passage. At his side, Alex and Remus. The were-wolf was bent in two by dolour of his imminent transformation. The vampire took his hand.

"Stay beside me, I won't let you kill," he promised.

Suffering yellow eyes plunged into the red ones. He hated this man that had tortured him. He loved this man that had never feared his company. He would stay at his side.

The Great Hall's doors opened wide and Dumbledore came out, Harry at his right, students behind. The Graphorn roared and the Gryffindor spotted his adversary. He didn't mind dementors, Draco sole was in his mind and heart.

Voldemort and Dumbledore advanced and faced.

"Still not ready to give up, old man?" inquired the dark lord.

"I could be dead that I would fight you."

"That is a chance because that's all that awaits you."

Draco sighed in the glassed room. He kneeled on the floor and joined his hands above his head. "Spirits of the lands, enemies are attacking. We will fight for you to death. I beg for your help. Don't abandon your children." He didn't say more, the grounds answered his call.

- - - - - - - - - - - -

Inhabitants had been dispatched in groups all through the Malfoy estate. Dragons remained behind rocks to use surprise effect. Lucius didn't need to summon his lands, he could feel them burning and complaining against the invasion. Severus and Bill flanked the lord, wand ready. Thunder resounded and the death-eaters launched the attack.

Two masked men arrived first, that quickly had their throats slat by the angry vampire. Then it became a free-for-all. Lucius had dropped his wand for a sword. He cut off heads swiftly and properly, the agility of his half dead body beating the heavy movements of humans. The death curse flied toward him in a flash of green and Snape cried out for his lover. But the spell bounced back on a black winged horse and the fighters shivered. That was the form spirits had chosen, they were the…

- - - - - - - - - - - -

Thestrals emerged from an opening of the Earth and devoured the first dementors they came upon. The others dispersed in terror, trying some other entrance.

In a single cry, children and adults had run toward death, sending the most powerful hexes they knew. Patronus, Immobulus, Incarcerous, Incendio, Relashio were opposed to the three dark curses.

Ron and Hermione were side by side, the red-head countered a bursting curse that was aimed for his girlfriend and the young woman cursed. She had spent three years training, it was time to show the result of her efforts. In a way McGonagall would have been proud of, she transformed in an owl. The close death-eaters weren't ready for an aerial attack and their eyes paid for it. A handful of Gryffindors grouped under the muggle-born emblem. Further away, Hufflepuffs had done the same with Fumseck.

Charlie Weasley came upon one of his past tormentors. His hatred grew heights and he send a Flagrare spell. The man screamed and burned from the inside in seconds, letting a heap of dust. This had been dark magic. Masked men turned at the recognition. How was it a light one dared to use their tricks? Then they recognised him: Lucius's student, and raided him. But Cast wasn't prepared yet to die, he had promised his brother, and he would keep his word!

Were-wolves had morphed and assaulted the fragile greenhouse. They met with carnivore plants, then encountered carnivore young men. Draco used his shadow state to go from one to another, taking no time to tear down carotids.

True to his oath, Alex called Lupin back to reason each time he was tempted to abandon the fight against his wolf part. The two of them did a massacre. Slytherins were encircled but never stopped killing to flee. Suddenly, red sparks flew on the vampire whom flesh inflamed and he cried out in suffering. Responding, Remus hurled himself on the aggressor and shredded his head to nothing. Blaise had calmed the burning of his ally with an extinguishing spell and they ran back to the centre of the battle.

Harry had taken some steps toward his opponent, morphed and they had observed one another. Graphorn against Griffin. The two beasts stormed and met violently. The Griffin's claws lacerated the Graphorn's belly without true result till he was pushed on his back by a powerful blow and horns plunged on him. He moved to his side in time for them to miss his heart but let out a cry as they pierced his left wing. Roaring, he used the incredible strength of his posterior paws to send the attacker flying against a tree. Harry used the time he was provided to get up and charge the beast, pecking his throat. The Graphorn ripped his feathers and flesh but he didn't let go. The strong beak finally vanquished the tough armoury hide and he destroyed the now unprotected neck. Taking back his human form, he ran to Dumbledore's help, his mouth full of blood and cut veins. But he met with Nagini first.

The old wizard had continued his unfinished duel from the battle of the Department of Mysteries against Riddle. Except that this time, the deal had been inverted. Voldemort had invoked the memories of ancestors to canalise their powers, and also knew how to use the force that his link with Harry gave him. The impact between the two energies had been so important it had intensified the crackle of the ground at the place the thestrals had come out. They battled with long swords and bucklers and if Dumbledore's experience was more important, Voldemort's strength was greater. A well placed blow send his blade flying and the headmaster wandlessly cast a Defensive Charm on the dark lord, who had to counter it, by dodging. When he turned back to his opponent, Voldemort met a reared up Aethonan. After a second of fear and another escaping, he smirked.

"You're a fool, Dumbledore. Crepas!"

The winged horse neighed in pain and collapsed on the ground, one of his knee' bones destroyed. Voldemort then took pleasure in breaking the large wings, listening with satisfaction to the suffering of his target.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Severus saw a dementor upon him too late and he was reversed on the grass. His wand escaped his grasp and he punched the cloaked thing to get it off him. He screamed for help when his arms were immobilised and the thing's mouth descended on his. Support came. A cry echoed and he saw an enormous mouth eat away the dementor. Never had he been so happy to meet an angered dragon. This one was a young Swedish Short-Snout, if Snape remembered correctly the books he had read Draco when the boy was young. It landed next to him, presenting his back.

'Is it truly proposing what I'm understanding? It can't be… No… Really?'

He had always hated brooms, but to parade on a dragon had been a fantasy of his when he was in Hogwarts. 'If Draco read that in my mind, I'm going to kill him…' he thought but he enjoyed it no less. From his aerial platform, he cast curses on death-eaters.

Bill had been cornered by Voldemort's followers and attempted resisting the Cruciatus they put on him when green light began crashing from the skies, dispersing the torturers. The dragon halted and Severus descended from his back. The young man was well enough to survive, but had to be protected. He entrusted the dragon with Bill's care. A flash of instinct told him to look for his lover but Lucius wasn't in sight. Severus panicked and ran toward the nearer noises of battle.

The lord had been ruthlessly slaying death-eaters when he'd come upon an horror. It was of human form, wearing torn remains of cloth, the face barely recognisable. It was his undead wife. She launched at him with a hiss and clawed his arm. He stroke a sword blow right to the neck but the metal did nothing. The outside flesh was disintegrating but the inside was as hard as rock. Back to the wand, he tried some curses but all were apparently destined to living humans and failed. The zombie jumped on him again and pierced deeply his chest. He growled, abandoned his wand and assaulted her. They rolled on the floor, fighting with teeth and nails, till he had her under him. He gripped her neck tightly.

'Salazar, if you are my ancestor, I shall succeed!' And he performed the strongest Homorphus Charm he could. Narcissa emitted a guttural cry and became back an unmoving pack of flesh and bones.

"Lucius!" called Severus who arrived running, "What… happened…"

The vampire looked under him and imagined what the potion master was seeing: his lover pressing a woman on the floor in a position that could lead to many controversies, even despite said woman being dead… "It isn't what you think…" he miserably explained.

And Severus couldn't help but grin, for not only it was the most pathetic thing Lucius had ever said, but it also and most importantly was the first time the vampire ever excused to him. He bent to kiss the lord and they ran right back to the dragon. Bill had awoken and, except for his hurting everywhere, he was fine. They helped the inhabitants in clearing the lands from the remaining death eaters.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

"Dumbledore!" shouted Harry as he saw the horse falling then morphing back, not able to maintain the transformation anymore. Nagini made to bit him but was stopped by a calling and Harry could run freely to the headmaster.

"You…" the Gryffindor hissed, "I'll kill you…"

Voldemort laughed, "I doubt that, boy! Crucio!"

Harry felt the pain run in his body but dismissed it from his mind, concentrating on his task. To destroy Voldemort's soul, they had to break the connection he possessed with him, and that, he was the only one that could do it… "Prior Incantato!"

Their wands linked in a ray of light and curses came out from both of them. "I call to the spirit of my dead mother. The spell she put on me shall come to an end and our linked minds be unlinked."

The grounds trembled and Harry advanced to escape from falling in the growing fissure. His head hurt like hell and he saw in dashes the day he had been bonded to his enemy. When it finally ceased, he fell on the floor, exhausted.

"Boy," groaned Voldemort, "You just destroyed your only protection. Avada Kedavra."

The green light flied, but never touched him.

- - - - - - - - - - -

"Nagini!" called Draco, hoping the snake would understand even remotely the dracken-tongue. The female beast turned back to him and stared at this imprudent that dared stop her from her meal.

"How could you fell so low as to serve a half-blood?!" he shouted. The snake hissed. "I am Dracken Malfoi, son of Salazar Slytherin, the master of all snakes, and I order you to leave this fight and retire in the forbidden forest!"

The snake wasn't moved and attacked. He blocked her with a Defensive Charm. His pupils fined down in a simple line and his voice darkened, "I am Draco Malfoy, master of all dragons, and I advise you to flee before I slaughter you."

This had more effect and the snake disappeared in the forest. He smirked. Then he heard Voldemort's shout. His heart's beating halting, he morphed and hurled to his lover.

- - - - - - - - - - - - -

Harry felt soft fur above him and opened his eyes. The killing curse hadn't touched him, something had protected him. The fur moved and he was faced with the most ethereal vision. The dragon was all in length, maybe twelve meters, with a tail that did half of it, from an ice blue colour on the belly to a marine blue on his back. Two long horns went backwards from the back of his head and he possessed thin whiskers. He hadn't got wings, but the swift and speedy way he moved indicated a great agility and probably the ability of flying.

The dragon took Harry's back robe in his teeth and transported him to the other side of the crevasse, where Dumbledore lied, then faced the dark lord.

"We meet again, young Malfoy. If I recall correctly, our last encounter wasn't resting to you."

But Draco didn't care about his babbling, "It is time to die, Tom," he growled.

Voldemort looked at the dragon and Dumbledore in awe and his face crisped in a grimace, "I see… He's sending you his last resources. Fine, if you want it this way, you'll have it this way!" He send his wand in the fissure and morphed.

During a time, all fights interrupted and all sights were lost on the two opponents. The snake was gigantic, some twenty-five meters long and two meters in diameter, all black with red tattoos. At his side, the dragon was so small and looked so fragile Harry shivered for his lover. Imitating Dumbledore, he sent all he had left of energy to help the dragon, and didn't even kept the necessary to get up then the two beasts began their fight of giants.

Voldemort had the advantage of length and strength but Draco had the speed and claws. For a long time did they fought, the observers not daring to send any curse for fear to touch the wrong one. Many death-eaters had been killed or stupefied, there remained none of the dementors. The thestrals could be thanked a lot for their work. Now, they had stopped to look at the fight, as many humans had done. Slytherin children dreaded every blow Draco took and cursed when the snake didn't died of his wounds.

Because wounds, he had many. As soft the belly's fur had felt to Harry, as keen now appeared the back's one and the dragon made sure to continually present the upper part of his tail to the snake. But Draco couldn't prevent the contrary to happen: the snake's skin wasn't any less sharp, as if thousands of perfect swords had been used to craft both of them.

They turned and turned in both sky and earth, in turn the dragon lifting the snake, in turn the snake making the dragon fall and they were coming dangerously close to the edge of the fissure. It was evident to all who looked than Draco was attempting to make Voldemort fall.

As the snake was caught between the fissure and the dragon, this last one launched at him and used all remaining strength to push more and more, dodging the fangs that were attempting to rip out his neck. The snake's tail bent into space, then half of him, and he finally fall.

Harry's heart began beating again, but stopped back almost immediately and he cried out his lover's name. Draco was falling with his adversary. In a desperate attempt, Voldemort had plunged his two long fangs into the dragon's tail, resisting the dolour of the keen skin to get revenge. The dragon shouted for help. Harry tried to get up but couldn't succeed: he'd given too much and had nothing left of strength. Thestrals flied to the other part of the crevasse and even some in it but both opponents were already deep within it. All noise stopped.

Harry looked at the fissure without accepting the last seconds of his life. This was a dream and he was going to awake. It was so stupid to die like that, when they had almost win… It wasn't Draco's style at all… Was it?

To his utter horror, the lands considered the battle had ended and the crevasse began closing back.

"They can't do that… Draco's in there… Stop it! Don't close! Stop!" he shouted to whoever was commanding the grounds. It didn't delayed the shutting of the earth, then going back of the thestrals and sealing of the lands.

**End of Chapter 12**

**Author's note:** If you read this, it's that you passed over the bad news. Thank you for having read the note at the beginning. No, you won't have the sequel just now, because I'm currently writing it. But did you really think I would kill my hero? I simply can't bear sad endings, so don't worry, your Harry will finally find his happiness. (and no, not in death, lol)

Chapter 13 insome days.


	14. Chapter 13 : Aftermath

**Summary: **When long ago, Salazar created the Slytherin house and put himself on its throne, he never thought that, one day, the Snake could evolve and the crawling lord mute into the sky sovereign, the one and only Dragon. Draco/Harry, Lucius/Severus, Ron/Hermione

**Author's notes:** See the end of the fic.

**SNAKE'S CLAN**

**Chapter 13: Aftermath**

What Dumbledore had used as an excuse was proven right: the Ministry had been attacked. It was nothing more than a diversion, but the surprise attack was well conducted and did what was awaited of it. Happily, Fudge had been killed. But what was happy news to Hogwarts was a mean of vengeance to the aurors…

When aurors arrived, bodies were everywhere, dispatched on the grounds. For the most part, they had been death-eaters. Thanks to the school's organisation, few of them had died on the battle. Mr Davis had saved his son from the killing curse, sacrificing himself. One of the vampires had been deadly beaten by a were-wolf and avenged soon after by his companion. Professor Flitwick had been crushed by a pan of wall, when rescuing the first years he had been assigned. Children had all survived, despite some of them having been beaten by the runespoors that had penetrated the castle. Mrs Pomfrey and Weasley had taken great care of the infirmary and immediately cured them. Of the fourth years, two Ravenclaws had been taken in a fire when attempting to bring back to the castle a wounded fellow. The fifth years had suffered the most and eight deceased was counted among them. Sixth and seventh years survived but many were injured. Hermione had a broken wing, Seamus a deep wound to the side, Lavender temporarily blind. That is a small part of it. In the red-head family, Fred had a pending leg and George helped his twin with the task of walking. Charlie had a gash at the head. Mr Weasley emerged from under the carcass of a dementor. Harry could barely walk due to exhaustion, and only the potions' effects allowed him some mobility. Dumbledore's left arm and both shoulders were broken. That left Draco. Finally, Voldemort had had the eyes bigger than his stomach.

Seventy-three death-eaters captured, among the two hundred and fifty that had come. The aurors made to unmask and take them to Azkaban but Harry roughly stopped them. He wanted to think before letting the aurors and Ministry take care of the situation. Draco had warned him about an aftermath he feared. Albeit his lover was dead, Harry would respect his thoughts and desires. It was later proved he had been right.

Two were-wolves remained alive. The first was unconscious and grouped with the death-eaters. The second was sitting next to a vampire and Sirius Black. It took Dumbledore to convince the aurors they were on their side. Still, the look most of the Ministry officers sent the three men assured they would soon need protection.

It was at that point that two people made their apparition through a fireplace. They ran to Dumbledore.

"Where is Draco?" Severus asked anxiously. As their battle had ended, his lover had writhed in contractions, shouted his son's name and fallen on the floor. He hadn't awaken since. But the silence that followed his question didn't reassured Snape. "Where is Draco?" he asked again in a small and breaking voice.

For the first time in the thirty-five years they had known each other, Dumbledore averted his friend's eyes. He didn't say he was sorry: Severus would never have forgiven him. The potion master let a terrible face show and ran back to the fireplace.

Bill, when faced with the news, went in search of his brother. The young man was prostrated against a tree, not far away from Sirius. As he advanced on him, he saw tears pouring down.

"He said all was going to be fine… He said we would be happy after the war…" Charlie choked on salt drops of water. And Bill didn't know what to say. He didn't understand how it could have happened. Draco was so strong, so sure of himself. He always gave the impression of unlimited power and untameable audacity. How could he have died? Bill hugged his brother. After a time, his breathing calmed, Charlie lifted his head. His eyes were red from crying and his right cheek and hair from blood. And Bill wanted nothing more than to make all pain go away. He slightly bent on the dark-haired man whom presented his lips and…

Remus, in his wolf form, Alex, in his vampire form and Sirius, in his human form, were sitting in silence. The wolf lied between their laps and appreciated the caresses they unconsciously provided him. It took his mind away from dolorous thoughts. The Malfoy child, Slytherin prince, presumed heir of the dark lord, had died, following Voldemort in death. Till the end, they had imagined him invincible, and it all had ended… like that… Then he remembered and quickly drew up his head to look around. What he saw mortified him: Bill was kissing Cast! Just there! And on the other side, a group of Gryffindors was coming. He raised up in a rush and ran on the brothers, interrupting whatever they had been doing. From far away, it could pass as a brotherly hug. Bill cried out in surprise and Charlie almost hexed the wolf.

"By Merlin, Remus, what took you to…" Then Cast noticed the approaching students and nodded a thank.

Soon, it was the morning. Harry hadn't come out of his half trance. The vampires had searched for their cloaks to protect their skin from the sun and Sirius had provided Remus with clothes. Students were sleeping.

"The battle has ended, we will be going soon. I wanted to thank you for saving me, I will remember my debt."

Lupin looked at Alexander, unsure of his words. He was reassured to have the vampires far away from him. Their two races had never got along well, apart from their fighting against humans. But when he reminded the time they had spent together…

When he'd been travelling through Transylvania, he had come upon a bar-hotel and decided to sleep there for a night. As soon as he'd paid and went up the first steps of stairs, he had smelled a band of vampires entering the establishment. He had run into his room, hoping to go away when they would have entered their respective chambers. He had heard doors clacking and had quickly gone out. But the blood-suckers had been waiting for him. The proprietary had been a vampire-born. Remus had then been taken to a small fortress and used for ten years as nourishment. The chief of the tribe was particularly fond of the captive: were-wolves possessed a spicy blood that enticed the vampires' senses. The nights he preferred were those of full moon, when Remus morphed and the blood-sucker had the immeasurable pleasure of taming the beast.

But despite everything Remus had wanted to believe, it had felt good to have his wolf part completely dominated. He had been hurt, but had also been sure he wouldn't hurt anyone, and that was the most important to him.

And after four years, the vampire came to England. Why had he come? It couldn't only be due to a promise to Draco, since the boy had revealed his astonishment at their coming. Moreover, why had he said they would be impaled if they went back losers? Had there been a fight for domination in the tribe? Or had the vampire only wanted to hide he was a chief? Besides, why had he, Moony, saved the blood-sucker after his suffering? Why hadn't he let him die?

All these thoughts passed in Remus's mind while Alex had turned and had gone away. In an awe, he observed Sirius running to the departing man and stopping him.

"As much as I don't like you," the ex-convict said, "He seems to… appreciate… your presence." The words felt heavy on his tongue an he wondered how little time would pass before he regrets them. "There are some vampires in the forest, so it must be liveable…"

After a time of hesitation, the vampire sent back his friend alone.

-

_**Flash-Back**_

_A simple and recognisable call. A shout that had been created to be heard only by vampires. It echoed in their forest of Transylvania. The group of blood-suckers directed toward the noise, knowing its cause. Days ago, a were-wolf had been detected in a neighbour town. These cases were very rare, as Transylvania was the land of vampires and were-wolves didn't like their company. It wasn't war between them, no… Still, hatred ran during their encounters. They were different._

_Were-wolves tended to live normally twenty-seven days out of twenty-eight by moon phase. Vampires had opted for a complete separation with humans. Were-wolves transformed human by a biting then abandoned them. The 'new born' had to search for his fellows alone. Vampires thought a long time before admitting a new member in their community. When they had transformed a human, they took care of who they considered to be their child. The two peoples hadn't good reasons to hate each others, but over the centuries, little dislike had grown into hatred all the same._

_The vampires went to a small hotel, whom proprietary was one of them. It was him whom had called them: he was a vampire-born. This was a little secret of them: vampires could reproduce normally and transmit their modified human genes. Children came to life the human way and only when approximately ten years old did they began developing their vampire inheritance. That had allowed generations of blood-suckers to remain completely unknown of the humans. _

_Alex caught the sight of a man going up the stairs. The smell couldn't wrong him: he was the were-wolf. In silence, he indicated to his friends that they were to follow. When arriving upstairs, they discovered the were-wolf had entered his room. Another client did the same. At the clacking noise, the door in front of them let place to a frightened man. The stranger saw them and tried to run, without success. They were four and he was alone. He had no chance. They took him to their fortress in the woods._

"_So," Alexander asked when in a room with the were-wolf, "What is an English were-wolf doing in a Transylvanian vampire area?"_

"_Visiting."_

_The vampire smiled and poured himself a glass of vine. Behind a barred door, chained to the wall, lied the were-wolf. He was a wizard, but they hadn't find his wand. He was young, twenty-five maybe. A child compared to his two centuries. Charming features were hidden by poor clothing and the results of a bad alimentation. His eyes were tired, sad, dead. He looked like stricken by Fate. Many would have decided then to protect him. But vampires weren't known for their gentleness or compassion…_

"_Someone in particular?" he inquired while sipping the vine._

"_No… I was alone." _

_Alexander approached the bars. "That's interesting. A were-wolf deciding to violate the ancient laws for tourism. You know that Transylvania is a vampire territory. You have no right upon our lands. What were you doing here?"_

"_Visiting." The man had answered in the same dull voice._

"_Hum… If you insist," he accepted. "I'd say you have a death wish, but you are lucky."_

_The last words had finally roused the stranger from his immobility and he listened to the master vampire's talk. As his 'host' didn't seem inclined to give much explanation, he raised his voice. "Why?"_

"_You have a will! I thought you were only good to answer questions. Well, you see, some of us are mated and can feed of their mate. But some of us also aren't and we need a constant prey. Our last died some weeks ago. You will replace him."_

_Terror showed in the young eyes but he seemed to resign and said nothing. Yes, apparently, this one had a death wish. Alexander smirked. It would be fun breaking the were-wolf. Little children that imagined they wanted to die for grand and heroic reasons aroused him. They were ready to gave up with life, but not to suffer for it. And to suffer, the wizard would. _

"_Do you know something of vampire feeding, boy?" he asked._

_The were-wolf said no with the head. Oh yes, it will be a pleasure. To look at the sweet face wincing in pain, the delicate members contorting under dolour. He laughed. "I hope you like it rough." _

_He hadn't touched the boy till the full moon. Some vampires had fed of him but without going through the whole process. The first night was for their master. It had been simple transfers of blood. Just before the transformation, Alexander penetrated the room and opened the barred door. The were-wolf was prostrated in a corner, in a foetal position, his body taken by convulsions. He walked to him and crouched down, anticipating the pleasure to come._

"_Go away," said the stranger in a rasping voice._

"_Why should I?"_

"_I'm dangerous."_

_The vampire laughed. "Dangerous? You lack a hundred years to be of any danger to me, boy."_

_Any other word the were-wolf would have wanted to pronounce died in cries. He was morphing. Alex bent to liberate him from the chains and waited. Some minutes later, the man was a wolf. A cornered wolf that wanted to revolt against its sequestration. The beast launched directly at the neck._

_They battled the full night, and the full night did it understood it couldn't mess with the vampire. The morning, the return of the human awoke Alex's desires. The wizard discovered the pain another being could bring upon him. And he cried. _

_Vampires enjoy rough sex when they feed. The were-wolf hadn't deceive him. The fight, the blood, the sex and a plus: the virginity. Yes, it had been good. But now, it was time to share, his people were hungry and horny. _

_Many years passed. One day, two guards announced Alex the arriving of an owl from Scotland. He hoped it was a message for Lucius. Alex had bitten the man's grand-father during a long stay he had made in the United Kingdom. But it wasn't. The letter was for his captive._

"_Remus Lupin. I suppose it is you," he said._

_The were-wolf's eyes rounded then gleamed with tears he tried to hide. "Where did you hear that?"_

_Since he had been captured, nobody had asked for the wizard's name. It was unimportant. He was the were-wolf. To hear it after all this time ought to bring back old memories. Painful memories, maybe. Alex had never discovered why the named Remus had left his country, what had nurtured him into wanting to die. At first, he hadn't care. Then, with years passing, he had considered it would have been of bad taste. Besides, it didn't concern him or his people. He took the letter out of his pocket and read._

"_For Remus Lupin. It arrived some days ago, it's a proposition from Dumbledore. He proposes you the job of Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher at Hogwarts."_

"_M… Me? But… Why? Why do you tell me that!" Tears were falling freely. For more than ten years, he had been in nothing more than slavery. Why did the vampire find the need to twist the knife in the wound?_

"_It's a proposition. You say yes or you say no. It's easy. I'm sure even you can do that."_

"_What? You… You'd let me accept? You'd let me go?"_

_As Alex had foreseen, the wish of death had passed. Some months had sufficed. Humans or were-wolves, they were all the same. "Me? No. But a friend of mine asked for the favour that I let you run free if you so desire."_

_Astonished, the wizard accepted the job. Alex looked at him as he went away. It felt strange. This was the first captive they ever let go in peace. They would need to find another. _

_But the new one wasn't the same. It wasn't a were-wolf, it wasn't a frightened child that thought he deserved to die, it wasn't Remus Lupin. _

_They had lived a decade together. One master, the other slave. Alexander went back to his past life. Three years later, Draco Malfoy made his apparition. It was an open window to feelings he would have wanted to forget._

_The wolf had changed. He had gained again self-confidence and many friends. But he hadn't forgotten either. _

-

The death-eaters had been locked in Hogwarts's underground. His friends were sleeping with the help of Mrs Pomfrey's potions. Snape hadn't reappeared.

Harry got up from his bed, careful not to awake anyone, took out his Invisibility Cloak and broom then went out. He ran in the corridors, knowing Filch was talking with some teachers in the Great Hall. He arrived to a side door, opened and mounted his broom when…

"Where are you planning on going, Harry?"

The Gryffindor turned to the headmaster. Dumbledore had been bandaged with care, due to his old age, and Harry couldn't stop from thinking the man ought to be resting from his harsh battle rather than being out lecturing a stupid student that was going to do another stupid thing.

"I was going to the Ministry," he admitted in a murmur, "To see if I can reach him from the Dead World…" He felt like crying but fought back tears.

"Harry, there is something I must tell you. Please, sit with me. I promise that after we have talked, if you still want to go, I won't try to stop you." His voice was tired and Harry followed him without resistance.

They entered back the castle then an empty classroom and sat on students' chairs.

"Maybe you remember that some times, when we talked, we mentioned seven Hells?"

Harry nodded.

"When you die," began Dumbledore, "there are many places you can go. They are called the Four Heavens and the Seven Hells. The passage in the Ministry conducts to one of these Hells. I don't know where the lands' spirits come from, but there are few chances that it is the same."

"But I can still go, just to see…" insisted the boy.

"If it was a possibility, I would have proposed it, Harry. But when Remus entered the Shadow Hell, he had Luck or Destiny with him, for to find Sirius in it, then find his way back is already incredible. More, I saw him going and could open the passage to them, but I haven't enough energy left to do it a second time. You would remain stuck in Hell."

"… So you think I shouldn't go…"

"I am sorry to destroy your hopes, but I don't want you to run to your death."

"No, it's me who's sorry. I didn't think clearly. I… I don't know what to do… I want Draco to be here. He was supposed to survive, how could he just… disappear…" He couldn't bring himself to say Draco was dead, he couldn't acknowledge it.

"Harry, you should go to sleep, you're exhausted. I can't claim that I knew Draco well, but I don't think he would agree on you dying to save him."

"Yes, you're right… They say tomorrow is another day… Professor, when will classes be resumed?"

"Very soon. The damages to the school are minim, in fact we had much chance during the battle. In less than a week, we should be able to go on with classes. Besides, it would do good to students to concentrate on something else than the war. This week-end will be spent in Hogsmeade and the Holidays will begin two weeks in advance."

"Thank you, headmaster. I'll rest now, I'm tired."

He went back to his dormitory but couldn't sleep. Each time he closed his eyes, he was reminded of his time with Draco in the shower. And he couldn't cry either for it would have been abandon. But days passed and hopes faltered.

-

World of the light victory had spread through England, then all Europe and the world. Harry decided than the prisoners were to be released, estimating there wasn't any danger left. Draco would have wanted that. He said too much blood had been spoiled over a nonsense war. How could magic fight against magic? As Harry shared this vision of things, Dumbledore used his diplomatic relations to let go some of the death-eaters. Most of them left without a word, but there was no revenge in their eyes. Their master was dead, their dark mark had disappeared definitely. A minor part couldn't be prevented from Azkaban, as there was too many testimonies against them.

Bill narrated what had happened in Malfoy Manor, the dragon battle and the zombie matter. Besides, Lucius Malfoy made a demand in order to keep the dragons on his lands. Atus Cast contacted some old friends to help with the papers. After four months, it was accepted. The grounds were large enough to house fifteen dragons and the inhabitants had adopted them. That was quite a surprise to all dragon keepers because some of the races were known for their hatred of humans.

Still, mass population was quick to forget they owed the victory to the dark family of the Malfoys, so the fighters took the time to rectify every wrong saying they came upon. The horrible end of the battle had been carved in their minds forever. Harry was particularly active in the repressing of false information, for Draco remained his lover in death, and he couldn't bear to hear the horrors people said on him. A monument was edified at Hogwarts in memory of the dead and each evening, Harry traversed the garden to sit next to the chiselled rock and talk to Draco about whatever came to his mind. On these minutes, he felt serene and happy.

The Malfoys had been hated for so long that an immediate change in someone that hadn't witnessed first hand their bravery was impossible. The Weasley backed him strongly, for they would never forget how important was the debt they owed the young animagus whom, contrarily to his reputation, had asked for nothing in exchange for his generosity.

To their utter consternation, Charlie had declared he wasn't to be seen in his true form and be called by his true name ever again. He would remain Atus Cast, member of the Snake's Clan. Little did they know he planned, in some years, when his family would have got used to him as a stranger, to reveal the liaison he now had with Bill.

When Harry had asked about the fumes Draco had been found in the day of the battle, Dumbledore had revealed an old secret: Salazar Slytherin had been a seer. It was a strong possibility that Draco had inherited the capacity and used the herbs to induce the trances. But then why hadn't he foreseen he would die? Harry asked. And Remus couldn't bring himself to reveal that Draco had been aware of his own future but had accepted to die, nonetheless.

Fudge was so dead. But his mandate hadn't been and, in waiting for the election of a new minister of magic, a council had been dressed to resolve the aftermath of the battle. Dumbledore possessed a chair, Arthur Weasley another, and a third was given to Harry. Three out of eleven. It was often they came back pestering against the absurdities of some law propositions…

Were-wolves were declared the nation's enemies and this time, Dumbledore wasn't enough to stop the aurors. Strangely, another 'beast' brought the solution that Harry and Mr Weasley announced to the council. Alexander, vampire, ex-chief of the second most important tribe in Transylvania, cousin of Dracula, narrated the anger of his people at the wizards' regulating law of the were-wolves. They feared for their own safety. No time would pass that the wizards would abuse of the repercussions of the war to attempt bringing down the vampires too. The giants had sent an emissary to assist Alexander. Moreover, Remus had been asked by Dumbledore to return to the were-wolves and propose them a treaty of peace between the humanoids. The remaining ones had accepted. Three races were so represented in front of the council. But the eight other possessors of the chairs refused to hear them out. Angered, the giant forced the door.

"Fine! Now, you will listen!" shouted Alexander, "I possess here all powers in the name of vampires. Should you not give me reassuring by law of our safety that I am allowed to declare you war."

"What!" cried out a witch, "This is madness! You should all be locked away!"

"Or killed!" yelled another, "Your races are monstrosities!"

Remus felt the wolf move in his soul, secondary effect of the potion Severus had given him months ago. "For my part, I have the were-wolf's powers."

"And we did better," announced the giant, "My people is currently carefully disposed around the Ministry. If I am not out of here in half an hour with the confirmation of laws letting us live in peace, we bring you down."

Alexander clapped his admiration, "Great! I should have done the same."

"We don't trust humans," explained the giant, "They constantly try to trick us. We accepted not to take part in the war. We demand compensation."

The council fumed in anger and a middle-aged man got up, "I propose we consider the request of giants and vampires. But the were-wolves associated with the dark…"

He couldn't finish that he was cut by Alexander, "It's the three of us or nothing!"

The members were all red and, as the half-hour they were accorded passed, they accepted to settle down. They had no choice but to accept.

"See, it wasn't so hard," laughed the giant. "Now, remember: our three races have hidden emissaries everywhere. Just try to go past this little signature of yours…"

He let the menace in suspense and departed. The council never learnt the 'giants posted around the Ministry' had been a good lie.

Remus and Alex reached a secret agreement. The first prevented the second from killing under the full moon, the second accepted to feed the first once a month. It slowly turned into a constant relation and often the students discovered a vampire in the DADA classroom, whom listened to the lesson.

A morning, the vampire had entered the classroom, covered by his usual black cloak, and only said, "I got bored in the forest," while getting a chair. He had never gone back. From this presence of humanoids, Dumbledore thought he could make use of and imagined the creation of a new class: Cognisance of magical people. Bill Weasley had replaced Flitwick as Professor of Charms.

Then in March came the elections. Harry proposed the name of Lucius Malfoy. Silence concluded his suggestion. He had met with the man at the ceremony of the dead in December. The high lord had mentioned he could visit if he so wished. Draco would have been pleased, so he accompanied Atus in one of his weekly trips. He was astounded by the lands. Never had he visited a so vast estate. He also met with some dragons. Many scientists asked to come and study them, as it was so rare the beasts accepted to be approached, but the demands were generally refused: the dragons weren't laboratory subjects. Since January, he hadn't seen the blonde man. Both of them had immersed in their affairs. Or rather, Harry had immersed and Malfoy had disappeared from sight. The lord also refused the proposition he was made, which pleased the council.

In April, the minister was elected and Harry could finally leave the council. These narrow-minded exasperated him, he said. The true reason was that five months had passed since Draco's death and the truth was showing in his face. The Slytherin wouldn't come back. He continued going to the rock every evening, but without conviction anymore, he didn't know what to say, what to hope. He was tired of being in the spotlight: without Draco, it wasn't fun, it was torture. Some nights, he went up the roof of the Astronomy Tower and looked at the sky, then at the Earth, and he thought: 'It would be so quick, to fall and to join him. So easy, so simple.'

He then remembered his friends and returned to his dormitory. But in the morning, he was always harsher, grumpier than usual. He began regretting that they existed, that he ever had friends, that they kept telling him how much they loved him. All that nurtured his remorse. They were happy. He couldn't saved the one he loved. They were all smiling now, they were forgetting. He would never forget.

Even the Slytherins, with their strange attitude, wanted Draco's memory to go away. They did only work, every day, every night. They didn't stopped working, occupying their mind.

-

**Wednesday, May, the 19th **

In Malfoy Manor, the story was all different. Lucius Malfoy had appeared at the ceremony of Hogwarts and then closed up in his house. He never got out anymore. He had experiences in the catacombs and Severus feared for his life. He hadn't feed since the death of Draco and was slowly vanishing.

The lands had recuperated after the battle. The link with the inhabitants was stronger than ever. Some of them had visions of their ancestors, some revealed ancient powers or abilities. But nobody heard about the vampire lord and they were beginning to worry.

"Lucius…" Severus said one day, as the Malfoy lord was reading a book in the library, "You remember that night we spent in the forbidden forest? The day I graduated, you came, took me away and made me your lover."

But the vampire didn't react and flicked a page.

"Lucius… Lucius!"

"Hum?"

Severus wanted to grasp the book from the white hands but knew it would have no effect, he had already tried and Lucius had simply gone back to his experiments. "React! I can't bear seeing you so… so miserable!"

"Then don't look." He flicked another page.

Severus kneeled on the floor, next to his lover's armchair and laid his forehead on Lucius's leg. "Lucius… Do you realise what you're doing to me? Please move, do something, anything…"

"You're pathetic."

"What…" He got up in a start, "I'm pathetic! Did you looked in a mirror? You've been neurasthenic for the past five months!"

Lucius closed his book with a snap and looked at Snape, "My son is dead!"

"I know! I know how much you loved him and don't think I loved him any less, but you won't bring him back this way. You dying of misery would be the last of his wishes. Remember the energy he put into the survival of your family."

This time, it seemed to hit a nerve. Lucius went to a window and scoped his lands, "So! I have no heir anymore. What do you suggest? That I take wife again? After all… It isn't a so disagreeable idea… Maybe I miss a feminine spirit next to me…"

Severus blanched but didn't interrupted the monologue. If that could rouse Lucius out of his torpor, he was willing to pay the price and to suffer looking at his lover marrying.

"The lady of Harbring has a vampire cousin. It may be a respectable choice. I wouldn't have to hide…" He turned back. "What do you think Severus?"

"I agree," he stammered.

"Hum… I'll sent her an invitation tomorrow, just to establish relations... But I'm talking and you have classes to teach. Thank you for your visit, it did me much good."

Days passed. At school, the Potions teacher was irritable, grouchy, hard, severe and all he was before the battle to his students. At the Manor, he was patient, open, miserable.

**Sunday, June the 6th **

That night, the headmaster came to look after him in his classroom.

"You should eat, Severus. You're wasting away."

"That's my problem." He was simulating the preparing of a potion, when he truly was mixing random ingredients in random shapes.

"But you are also my responsibility, I must take care of you," insisted Dumbledore. The old man looked at the two persons he considered like his children dying inside. Harry and Severus would soon leave the world of living if he did nothing…

"Let me reassure you, I'm fine!" Grumped Snape, when he showed and sounded like the exact contrary.

"Truly?"

"Yes!"

Severus still hadn't turned to meet the headmaster's piercing eyes. "Do you thing me a fool, child?" Dumbledore had enough, he wanted to know what ate away at the man, "I know you aren't well, and I know that has to do with Lucius. Is he still prostrated?"

"Oh no… He's better… Even thinking of taking a wife again!" Snape bitterly thought aloud and, realising his mistake too late, his movements stopped in mid-air. How could he have been so carefree? He ought to have been more tired than what he thought.

"Oh… Severus, he needs a heir. He loved you when Narcissa was alive." Dumbledore couldn't believe he was providing help in love matters.

"You don't understand, it isn't the same at all…" He felt childish but what he said was the truth. 'Narcissa hadn't got vampiric relation. He didn't want her to know and at least needed me to feed. This time…'

"Fine, I don't understand. But if you don't want to explain or aren't better in a week, I will go and talk to him," menaced Dumbledore.

"No!" Snape turned brutally in terror, "If you do that, I swear…"

"Severus! You're dying!" Roared the old wizard.

"And what of him?" Fought the child that he was in front of the old man, "He hasn't fed since Draco's death! He's vanishing! He only wants to give another heir to the lands and then will die!" Tears menaced to fall, "What I am supposed to do! To watch at him? To bury him as I did Draco! I refuse!"

With these desperate words, he fled out of the room, leaving his potion and ingredients untidily.

-

**Tuesday, June, the 8th **

Harry was out one more time, inspecting the sky for some news that didn't want to come. A sign, that was all he asked for, all he needed for his faith to survive. But in this morning of early June, only rosy beams stained the lightening blue of the Earth's ceiling. When the sun emerged from the horizon, Harry decided it was time to go back and dress for another morning of appearances and lies. He smiled when people needed him smiling, he laughed when they needed him laughing, and the rest of the time, he did nothing, he simply stared, vaguely listened to the teachers' ramblings. He was flabby but he couldn't even feel it. Surely Dumbledore had specified to the professors that they had to let him in peace, for his grades had never been lower and they said nothing. He didn't care. He had enough money to go on with this blank life without working. Besides, his brain didn't feel like functioning anymore. The council had achieved him.

Their last two matches of quidditch also took place. He wanted to let Ginny play the Seeker but they insisted it had to be him, to 'do something he liked' they said. So he played. He lost. The second time, they insisted too, despite his first bad score. He lost too. Ravenclaw won the Cup. He hadn't cared either.

Of all his friends, Hermione was the most devoted. In order to keep his grades from the absolute zero, she did every work she could in his place. As for the rest, the professors said nothing. Harry mentioned one day that she needn't to, they knew it was her, but she had gone on. He believed it was her personal way of excusing for Draco's absence. He appreciated. She asked nothing, told nothing, only came everyday and made his work. She enjoyed the silence as much as he did. Sirius often wanted to talk to him, but Harry preferred not to see the man. It reminded him how he had been saved, or rather by whom.

To say he was completely dead was an exaggeration. There was some moments in which he awoke. It was in Potions. Snape's temper was fouler than ever and the 'greasy git' didn't miss an occasion to bring down Gryffindors. From the rumours Ginny narrated to him, trying to occupy him and change his mind, the teacher wasn't nicer with Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws. Slytherins didn't cope better with this new version of their head of house but respected him greatly still and made efforts to give him less reasons for anger.

Potions was precisely his first class of this like-every-other day. Great. He felt perfectly like it. To bear the fucking teacher of a fucking class. At least, the rest of the week, he could rest in peace. It prevented him from fainting of the lack of sleep he accumulated during his white nights.

Breakfast was noisy. Children crying, laughing, it was almost the end of the year. Their last year. They had Newts in some weeks. He didn't know the quarter of the program. He couldn't even remember what contained the program.

He sat in the potions classroom and couldn't tell how he had arrived there. He was there, that's all that counted. They wouldn't panic and search for him this way. That was what bothered his most. When he was alone, and fine, and perfectly happy in his latency and they arrived running and sweating, and yelling, and crying, all that to announce that they had feared so much for him because he had disappeared some minutes. As if death-eaters would decide to attack him. The look in their eyes when he had released them was enough to prove they would never try anything against him anymore. Draco had been right.

He passed again in his head his lovemaking with Draco the hour before the battle. He had felt so alive at that moment, so happy, so desiring to go on with what they had. His carefully constructed card castle had fallen in infinitesimal pieces. And the only way to glue them back again was to…

A bang on his worktable took him from his thoughts. He was faced with very dark and very angry eyes. "Potter!" shouted Snape, "Maybe you could gratify this class with your presence?"

'Gratify' certainly wasn't the word to use at this moment, for he wasn't inclined to accept comments on his so-called fame. "Why? I didn't learn any of the words you use," he bitterly answered.

"Then open your book and learn them! Or maybe it is too much for wonderful Potter?"

This time it was too much, "And what if I don't want to! You're happy now! I played my part, I fought Voldemort! Leave me alone!"

That only served to anger Snape more. "You will NOT speak back to me, Potter!"

"I will do as I want! I've heard enough of you. During seven years you ruined my life. I won't…"

But before he could finish, Snape swiftly came forward Harry and caught his robe's collar, lifting the Gryffindor. "Trust me Potter, I endured more and will support more than a little tantrum from an immature child. Do you think you're sole to mourn? Draco was my godchild, and Lucius's son, his only son. Stop…" The teacher's face had gone red in anger but was suddenly whitening again and he let go of Harry. "…taking yourself…" Porting his hand to his head, he made some unsure steps. "…for…" And the suddenly limp body slid to the floor.

"Harry! What did you do!" Ron exclaimed as students gasped.

"I… I did nothing…" he stammered.

"He's exhausted, that's why he fainted," cut through Blaise, "Granger, go and search for Pomfrey. We'll begin transporting him while you're on the way."

The headgirl nodded and ran out. "Potter, help me," ordered the new Slytherin in command, expecting a reaction out of the frozen boy.

"Y… Yes…" He took out his wand and spelled the unconscious body. They went all the way to the Infirmary and found there the Mediwitch, Hermione and the Headmaster. Harry blanched. There was only one people he still hated to disappoint and it was the old man. The great wizard transported around him an aura of Death and pessimism that calmed him. When Snape lied in a white bed and Hermione and Blaise had gone out to take care of the students and the abandoned classroom, Harry turned to Dumbledore, knowing not what to do.

"Don't worry Harry," reassured the headmaster, "It isn't your fault, you only accelerated the inevitable."

"Why is he like that, professor?"

"Ah, these are old matters that I prefer not to talk about, and also not to think about if I can avoid it…"

Dumbledore couldn't forget that if Lucius had been a source of joy to Severus, he had also brought into his life the majority of what was bad. The dark mark being the most important. For when Severus had become of age, his father was dead, and the headmaster had hoped a Slytherin could be saved. But Lucius's influence had been greater and above all, Severus's hatred of the Gryffindors had taken enormous proportions.

"Will he go better?" Harry faintly inquired, fearing the answer.

"That power, my child, isn't in our hands. It doesn't even lie in his own… Another carries Severus's fate."

"Another?…" That didn't make sense.

"Draco bears your Destiny, Harry. His sole presence modifies totally your actions. It is the same for Severus. It appears I finally have to go and dig him out of his house…" There was a tone of anger and hatred in the old man's voice which reminded Harry of the great powers he held.

"Professor!" called Harry as Dumbledore was going to the fireplace, "You're speaking of Draco in the present tone… You think that?" Hope was shining in his eyes as the stars he observed every night in remembering of his love.

The headmaster's lips curved, "I trust only what I see, Harry. But I saw enough of Mr Malfoy to know that he has more than one trick up his sleeve." Then he disappeared through the fire.

For the first time in months, Harry truly smiled and Mrs Pomfrey looked at him quitting the infirmary with a benevolent look. She had observed the love Draco Malfoy had declared for Harry Potter and had faith in the young man: he wouldn't let the Gryffindor alone. For the same reasons, she deeply trusted that her little Severus would soon again be well. After these horrible times, happiness would come back and for good.

Harry wandered in the corridors, enjoying this new hint of a beautiful future in his soul. Suddenly, he came across Slytherin's statue and looked at the man. "During seven years, I only hated you, and I excuse… If Draco was your son, you ought to be better than I thought…"

And he didn't say more for in the obscurity of this old and famous school than was Hogwarts, where nothing strange felt out of place, he had seen the statue nodding…

"I must have been hallucinating… This statue never moved, it's my imagination. It simply can't move… It would be known… Yes, it can't move, I'm currently sleeping in my bed and I'm dreaming… I'm dreaming… I'm dream… ing… drea…" He fell unconscious on the floor.

-

**Wednesday, June the 9th **

When Harry awoke, he recognised the room he had slept in, when he had been working with Draco in the Slytherin Dungeons. A small owl was looking strangely at him and Harry felt a sense of déjà-vu. With a start, he realised he was dressed in pyjamas made of green silk. 'Am I still dreaming?' He wondered.

'It can't be… Someone is playing a fucking trick on me… Why am I here? Was it all a nightmare? Did this last month never happened?… I'll get up and go look into the common room, I'll have my answers… yes, that's it!'

He dressed up, did as he had thought and opened the door that took to the small staircase. Silently, taking care not to make any noise on the wooden stairs, he went down.

"Good morning, Draco!"

Harry almost fainted on the spot. His heart menaces to fail him if he didn't understand immediately. He ran into the common room…

A second year was saluting the statue of a blue Asian dragon. Reality crashed upon Harry and he thank Merlin that he hadn't imagined too much. He wouldn't have been able to bear it.

"You're finally awake, Potter?"

Harry turned and met Zabini. "Yes... What am I doing here?" he asked quickly, not liking at all when he had blank cases in his memory.

"I found you sleeping on the floor, next to Salazar. I took you here. You slept through all day and night, it seems."

"Oh…" 'I fainted… That's stupid…' "Where did you find the pyjamas? And… I need to know… Did the statue ever move?"

The Slytherin looked at him with amused eyes. "You're pretty curious this morning, Potter! Well, if you truly want to know, I shall tell you. When I took you to the room and deposited you on the bed, the pyjamas appeared out of nowhere. Then something began changing you. As you'll ask as soon as I'll stop talking, no, I'm not certain of what it was. To me, it was Draco. He felt jealous and wanted to change you himself. For the statue, if you mean Salazar's, I never saw it myself, but I remember Draco mentioned it from time to time, so I'd say yes. Another question?"

Harry felt helpless and all mixed inside. He didn't know what to think anymore. To add to his bizarre feeling, Zabini advanced on the small dragon and kneeled in front of him, soon imitated by some Slytherins that had just come out of their dormitories. "Good morning, Draco. May Slytherin protect you through this day."

Then more children came running happily through the beautifully decorated room; some traversed it quickly, some stopped and talked to friends, but none of them forget to salute the dragon. Harry sadly looked at them through what seemed to be a ritual. "You're all mad," he said to Zabini.

"Us, mad? No… Children!" He shouted, "Time for breakfast!"

A sea of Slytherins bashed out of the Common Room, followed by Harry and Zabini, whom went on…

"You see, during the few months Draco spent as the Heir, there is one thing he perfectly taught the Slytherins, something that is keeping them from breaking as any normal human would have. It is Hope."

Harry's head redressed at the words. "Snape, you and the others don't feel it like we do because you spent less time with him than we did but… Draco said he would survive the war. It may take him years or even centuries to come back, but he is alive. And alive or dead, we will all be waiting for him."

Harry feared to trust his heart and listen to the Slytherin. "You seem pretty certain…"

"Because I am!" seriously concluded Zabini. As it was early, few of the Gryffindors were up; besides, Harry felt good with Zabini, who talked freely of Draco as of someone that had gone on a trip and would come back soon. He had imagined they wanted to forget Draco, to think of something else. He had had all wrong and he understood now: the Slytherins had been working to make Draco proud when he would come back. Because Harry at present was sure of it, Draco would come back, it was only a matter of Time… He thought back on the sentence his love had repeated before going to war: 'Only Time will prove itself to you'. And all was clear. He felt alive. He stayed and eat breakfast with the green ones. If someone had said to him, a year ago, that he would be genuinely happy surrounded by Slytherins, he would have sent them directly to St Mungo's.

He interrupted his devouring of a delicious new jam he just found – who would have thought the jams weren't the same on all tables? – when he felt a little hand tugging at his sleeve. Turning the head, he saw the smaller boy he had ever laid his eyes on at Hogwarts. Was this a first year? He looked like an eight years-old!

"You want something?" he asked kindly to the child.

The boy nodded and presented a folded sheet of paper and a quill with a pot of ink. "May you give me an autograph, please?"

And the boy had so gentle and innocent eyes Harry didn't take the time to think and took the items to pose them on the table; at the same moment letting a small place on the bench for the child to sit. It was incredible! A Slytherin was asking him an autograph! Raising his head from the table, he saw Zabini who was eating a slice of bread and butter and smirking at him, and he wondered why.

Harry unfolded the paper a time, then another, then another and discovered it was actually bigger than he'd imagined. Seeing what he was doing, his table neighbours pushed all dangerous rests of breakfast from a large surface so that he could completely unfold the paper. It represented an immense tree with different cases in the branches. From the names he recognised, signatures were grouped by Slytherin year. He then looked at the trunk and remained agape. On the left side, there was Severus Snape, Lucius Malfoy, Misters Nott, Parkinson and Davis. On the right side, there was Atus Cast, Bill Weasley and other names he didn't remember. But what truly took away his attention was the root. A child's drawing represented Draco in his human form accompanied by a little blue dragon. The signature of his love was there. And little Draco was holding hands with another little character, a dark haired boy with red robes and a bolt scar on the forehead. Tears came to his eyes at the purity of the drawing. It wasn't well drawn, it rather was the contrary, but the simplicity of the gesture the two characters shared was perfect. The child had represented their love in a way that expressed his most profound desires. He wiped away tears that menaced to destroy the sumptuous work. He didn't care if the Slytherins mocked him for this manifestation of weakness. He needn't to, for they didn't. He was one of them now, they respected him. He took the quill, dipped it in the ink and signed next to his mini representation. When he gave back the items to the boy, Zabini talked to the child.

"So you finally decided to ask him?"

At Harry's look of non-understanding, he explained, "He drew it six months ago, just before the battle."

Harry nodded and turned to the boy to hear the answer he would give. The child smiled. "Yes! Draco said I could go today!"

Boys young men startled, "You talked to Draco!"

"Of course… I talk to him every day…" The poor child thought he had done something wrong. Zabini quickly reassured him and demanded more complete information. "When you say good morning to the dragon, sometimes, he talks back to you. Today he said it was time to go and ask Harry to sign my tree."

"But…" Harry intervened, "Why not before?"

"Draco said before you were not ready and that would only make you sadder!" The boy recited it like he would a text he had heard dozens of times.

The boy was right. Had he asked for it sooner, he would have been refused. Harry felt he had gone all the way through redemption. He would try talking to the dragon, even if he seriously doubted he would obtain an answer. The boy had said 'sometimes', besides, Zabini had been as surprised as him at the news and he ought to speak a lot with pseudo-Draco, or so Harry believed. Maybe the dragon needed someone pure. A dark thought came back to his mind: there was someone he had to apologise to… if it wasn't too late…

Frowning in anxiety, he travelled the way to the Infirmary. But when he arrived, he saw Hermione, Mrs Pomfrey and Dumbledore looking at something on a bed with smiles. He looked too and he was granted with a sight… a sight so incredible he couldn't help smiling too…

-

**Tuesday, June the 8th **

"Lucius Malfoy!" roared Dumbledore when he arrived in the Manor through a fireplace. He was in the Great Hall and no-one was to be seen. A house-elf finally appeared. "Master is occupied. Master shall not be seen today. Mister shall come back tomorrow."

"Tell him his lover is dying, then," he angrily spat, "And that if he does not move, I will go and search for him myself!"

But his outburst seemed to stir something in the old house and he frowned. There was… He felt eyes on him and menaced. "Minty will see what Minty can do for Mister," said the lithe creature.

He was let alone in the inhospitable residence and let his eyes travel on the furnished walls. At the first sight, nothing he had to fear, but his instinct told him there was a danger waiting to lash on him, and he always trusted his instinct. The house-elf reappeared. "Master said he shall not see Mister today."

Rage flew in the great wizard's veins, rage like he hadn't feel in years, despite the war or Harry's constant danger. How dare this man let his lover die alone! How dare he hurt Dumbledore's almost son this way! After all the promises he had made! Was that the Lucius Malfoy he had respected! He ignored the house elf's shouting and advanced through the corridors, marching to the source of magic he sensed in the Manor. He traversed sumptuous doors, decorated halls and rooms.

After five minutes of walking, reason took again the best of his mind. When he'd been in the entrance hall, he had felt strongly the aura; and it had only increased as he came nearer from the source. For him to sense it this distinctly, Malfoy shouldn't have been that far away… The only possibility was that… He was loosing energy…

To say the truth, he had thought Severus had been exaggerating as he always did when it concerned his lover; that he was still under the shock of Draco's official burial when he had talked about Lucius's dying. It painfully appeared to him that maybe it hadn't been such an illusion that he had imagined. The high lord, sovereign of the Malfoy lands, was dispersing through his house his last reserves… Dumbledore ran the rest of the way and forced the door with a light shot of wandless magic. The Hogwarts headmaster took a step back. The air was full of a killing desire and he wondered what was creating it…

In the middle of the room, on a ceremonial altar laid the body of his past student. Dumbledore advanced to it and posed his hand over the unmoving chest. Life had left him for good.

'I am too late… How stupid of me it was to underestimate Severus's worries, and your love to your son… He said he wouldn't accept to bury you and will join you soon. You were the only one with the power to save him… Why are you lying in a concentration room, Lucius? What were you trying to do when Death took you? Is it my duty to look at the best of us going? Draco, what joy could it be of you to come back if there is no-one left of the persons you love?… But then…'

He turned back to the house-elf which had followed him and asked in wonder, "Why did you say I could come back tomorrow?"

"Because you are as much of a fool as you always was."

In astonishment, Dumbledore turned again. The white dead eyelids opened then the high lord redressed on the altar and looked at him. The old man remained agape and Lucius smirked at the unusual situation.

"For your questions: First, I was resting and recuperating. Second, I was trying to have a nice and interrupted chat with my son. Third, I will bury you and not the other way round. Fourth, we will all be alive for Draco's return."

After a moment of uncertainty, Dumbledore smiled at the assurance in the voice, then remembered the reason of his visit and frowned. "You should hurry then, because Severus's dying."

"I know, I'm returning with you."

Dumbledore grumbled in his barb that he effectively could after what he had put the child under! Questions would wait for later.

They used flow-powder and soon were in Hogwarts's Infirmary. Mrs Pomfrey smiled at Lucius and beckoned Dumbledore out with her. As the old wizard closed the door, he briefly caught the glimpse of a darkly dressed figure bending over a lying one and kissing it lightly. The scene had something… strange and reverential in it, as if a carefully kept secret was there, hidden beside the door. The use of power inside the room prevented him from using magical sight and he had to keep his hands from reaching the knob. This secret the Malfoys had kept from him for so long… What he had yearn to discover… But he couldn't… Not if he wanted to conserve his friend's and almost son's affection.

Poppy touched his arm and smiled at him. "You never had much trust in him, do you, Albus? But trust me, then, he would never have let Severus die."

-

Lucius approached his dying lover and observed him. Severus Snape wasn't handsome, quite the contrary in fact. He didn't take care of his body and wasn't charming either. He wasn't nice, or pleasant, or even social. But Lucius had never appreciated nicety that much, and only cared for beauty in public.

When he had seen little Severus advancing through the throng of first years, he had known. The little boy was physically attractive to who could forget the first impression, and had an air that cried: "I hate you, I hate your neighbour and I hate the world; but if you show me I can trust you, I will follow you everywhere." He would develop an interesting psychic and strong will.

He so had protected his prey, and proven him he could not only be trusted, but also respected, admired and venerated. Severus had been true to his existence: he had been ready to accompany his lover in Hell. He still was.

Lucius slightly smiled and bent over the unconscious body to kiss the presented lips. A sigh escaped the dark-haired man as he murmured the name of the one he had thought he had lost.

Draco now was of age, would soon be back then bound to Potter. No danger remained. There would be no need for Lucius and his son to magically bind in order to legate brutally the lands. The passing would be done slowly, using the old customs. And Severus, whom he had always refused a complete relationship to, would at length be happy.

He pronounced formulas of ancient magic to keep visitors at bay. A binding shall not be interrupted. Lucius silently pushed the sheets aside and carefully undressed the still sleeping body then his own, and laid on the bed. He moaned lightly, it felt good to be with his lover again. Severus moved, his rest disturbed by the presence, and his soul yearning for its companion. Lucius pressed their bodies together and groaned in union with Severus. He morphed, cut his left wrist's vein with a fang and presented it to his lover's mouth. At the strong odour, Severus awoke and raised his eyes to the grey ones.

"You're here…" he faintly said, exhausted as he was.

Lucius kissed his forehead and approached his hand nearer for the man to suck the pouring blood, which he did. "Yes, I am. And I won't go away." He looked a moment at Severus feeding, a smile on his lips at his lover's wonder. "I know you are no vampire, but it will do you good. Don't worry, I am in good enough shape to share with you, and no, I didn't feed. Draco lent me energy."

Severus's eyes rounded, the rest of his face still hidden by the white hand but Lucius didn't let him the time to ask. He pinned his lover's hands above his head, kissed him fully on the lips and rammed their bodies together. Severus moaned so loudly against his mouth that Lucius thanked the spells he had put on the doors. When the dark-haired man made to draw his legs apart and let the lord use him, the vampire stopped him, earning a worried frown from the pinned man.

"Today," murmured Lucius, "We will go another way."

At first, Severus didn't understand, then he gaped in realisation. "Lu… Lucius, you're sure? I mean… I've never… Well…" He felt like blushing as a virgin and fought against it.

But, comprehensive, Lucius smiled. "I have never been bottom either. You have better be a good lay…"

-

**Wednesday, June the 9th **

Harry also looked and he was granted with a sight… a sight so incredible he couldn't help smiling too…

In the small Infirmary bed, Lucius Malfoy, laying on his side, was embracing with his strong arms Severus Snape, whom cuddled in his cocoon of happiness. Both of them were so vaguely dressed it was no wonder what they had been doing. The minimum: shirt and pants.

A white hand was losing itself in the dark greasy hair. To Hermione, it seemed repulsing. To the headmaster, it was a redeeming scene that the one of his most dear child getting pampered by the powerful high clan lord.

In the afternoon, Harry travelled to the Slytherin's dungeons and asked for help: he needed to work and have his Newts. Draco would not be pleased with his current grades. He also tried talking with the dragon but it didn't answer. Still, he couldn't resist giving it a small peck and the dragon smiled.

When returning back to his dormitory in the evening, he passed upon the headmaster. Dumbledore was musing on the Malfoy secret. He wanted to discover it, it was his last enigma. Harry was sad than the grand man was leaving Hogwarts at the end of the year but he had to admit Dumbledore was old and tired, despite what Harry wanted to think. The war had achieved him. He needed to rest. He would always be able to come back later if he so wished. Whoever the next headmaster would be, probably McGonagall, they wouldn't refuse the visit of Albus Dumbledore. If they did, they were nuts.

Harry tried to help the headmaster but didn't know either. In conclusion, he accompanied the man in his office for a warm cup of chocolate.

"Ah… You see, Harry, this secret began with the father of Lucius. I was the transfiguration teacher at that time and I saw he had something different. I never discovered what. Later, when I had become headmaster, Lucius came to Hogwarts. There was the same thing on him and I never discovered either. And now, there is Draco. Three generations. Almost seventy years of secret. If there was one wish I could ask, it would be to know."

Harry found it funny the passion Dumbledore put in this problem. Like a child. But it was true it bothered him too. What could that be? Could there be a link with…

"Professor… Draco said something one night… Hum… Well… He said that… Hum… That he couldn't… touch me… before he had succeeded in mastering his beast part."

He was all red of his confession but didn't regret since the headmaster's eyes twinkled. "That is strange, Harry. Truly strange… I think I am lacking some part of the problem… Something… I have to talk to Alexander, he could be of help to me. Thank you for that Harry, I may be on the way to the answer."

But the vampire representative revealed nothing.

-

Newts came, then graduation. Harry passed with eight Newts. He was very proud of it, and could be, with the enormous difference in the amounts of work he had done during the year and during the two last weeks of school. Then it was the ceremony of the end of the year.

When students penetrated the Great Hall, they weren't surprised to see green everywhere. It had been foreseeable that the room would be decorated with Slytherin colours. Wasn't the hero of the war a Slytherin? Many children entered and sat at their table but, Harry noticed, the very concerned students remained up. It was the turn of the teachers and Snape did as his students. Lucius Malfoy had been invited over and nobody minded. Harry smiled in understanding and got up. Then Zabini entered, took place in the table's centre, raised his hand and closed his eyes. Every Slytherin, past or present, imitated him and it was touching, this house considered of delinquents, rebellious, disobedient and cruel children, paying homage to the worst of them all.

The others observed in silence. They knew if they dared make any noise, they would be killed without pity. They needn't be reminded, and in any way needed the menace for all were aware of the debt they owed the Snake prince. Prince, Draco had been and Prince, he would remain. This title would stay vacant from now on till his death.

"Draco," Blaise suddenly broke the silence, "I don't know if you can hear me from… this place you are. I deeply believe you can and by so, you may also notice the Great Hall is green. Your spell worked."

Murmurs of the three other houses. What spell? What was he talking about? And Harry smiled for he recognised a distinct trick of his lover.

"I spied on Dumbledore," Blaise continued on, "He experimented on it, but failed in changing the colour. You would say 'Because he wants to appear as a good little headmaster. Can't forget Slytherins saved the world. Mustn't have tried his best.' Then you would make all colours disappear and defy him to bring them back. But no, you had to play hero once more, as if everything you had done in the past five months hadn't been enough. If only you…"

Blaise wasn't sure the water that dimmed his eyes didn't clouded his brain too, but… no: gasps in the Hall indicated he wasn't the only one to see… the colours that drained from the tapestries… He turned to Dumbledore. "If it's you, I swear, headmaster or not, I'll kill you here and now!"

It was with emotion the headmaster eyed the Slytherin and replied: "It would have been an insult to Mr Malfoy's memory not to try my best."

It was enough to the ones that were listening and Harry hesitantly called his lover. Then he laughed when the Great Hall was redecorated with flags representing dragons. Under them, you could read 'Hero of the war: Me! Thank you, thank you.'

Then the colours drained again and a new image appeared. It was of a Griffin and a Dragon interlaced and read 'Will you marry me?'

The girls cried and the boys smirked. Harry only blushed and smiled broadly. "How can I? You're not even here?" he dared to the void.

"Oh, but I am," whispered a voice in his ear.

Harry quickly thanked all the gods and founders, bothering not for the names, turned and jumped in his lover's arms. Both fell backwards but didn't care: they were already happily kissing to their reunion. And the tears Harry had so long contained flew freely on his cheeks.

The first astonishment passed, students clapped all they could. Ron pointed his index at Draco. "You! You merit Hell. To let Harry suffer this way, you…you…" But Draco wasn't listening. He was resisting his desire to undress Harry here. Dumbledore made his ring echo in the Great Hall, gaining back the calm. The two makers out stopped their progression and got up back, lips all swollen.

"Mr Malfoy, it is good to you have among us again," the headmaster announced.

"Yes, I am rather content myself. By the way! Weasley! I have a surprise for you!" He turned to Ron. "It's waiting on your bed!"

The poor Gryffindor's colours disappeared from his face. "You didn't do that?"

But the Slytherin smirked and Ron wondered if he went to strangle him immediately. Seeing as everyone was looking at him, it wouldn't be decent. Especially in front of Hermione… He grumbled and muttered to his girlfriend he would be sleeping with her for the remaining nights in Hogwarts. She thanked Draco with a well meant look that indicated to all but Ron it had only been a big lie.

Then Draco turned to his lover. "I used my time as a dead to pass by the Heavens and saw your parents. Your mother gave me your hand in marriage." He grinned.

Harry overran his surprise and slight jalousie to ask: "And my father?"

Draco had an awkward smile. "Ah… Well… He tried to behead me… Your mum had to menace him to make him stop… Hum. She said not to mind him. That it would pass."

At the teachers' table, Severus was gripping Lucius's hand in joy, and he heard Black muttering: "What a pity… He missed him…"

Despite some ex-Gryffindors' false bad mood, the lunch was perfect. Draco ate at the red table and many students came and touch him to see if he was real. After the dessert, he went to his house, only to be assaulted. A mass of green enveloped the poor dragon who couldn't help laughing. Life felt good.

-

**The day after**

The full Weasley family was packed in the headmaster's office, with a few additions.

The Slytherin dungeon had resounded all night long with cries of pleasure. The firsts were of two reunited young men, then, enticed by the sound, many had decided to well use the insomnia that was forced upon them. A certain professor had imitated his students. The noise had been unbearable. Even spells couldn't keep it at bay. Paintings had fled in shock and met their counterparts of other houses. The full school had been awoken by their constant babbling and met in the Great Hall.

"_Hey!" exclaimed Ron, "Where are Moony and Charlie?" _

"_The vampire is nowhere to be seen either…" half remarked, half answered Sirius. He knew where his friend was: simply in his room. But Remus was not alone. He couldn't be alone what with the groans and moans that passed through the door when Padfoot had searched for him. He felt stupid. All had a boy or girlfriend. Even Ginny! But HE was SINGLE! He was forty and had no counterpart. Ok, he was suspected of being a mass-murderer for fifteen years, but still… _

_About Charlie… Maybe had they decided to make a threesome… _

"_We could go and see Charlie. Bill should be with him," proposed Ron._

_Right. No threesome then. They walked the corridors in which echoed more non catholic sounds and arrived at the teacher's room. The visitors frowned. The racket wasn't better there._

"_Well… Maybe he's not with Bill finally…" commented Ginny._

"_I didn't know he had a girlfriend," said Ron._

"_Or a boyfriend," added Sirius._

"_No, Charlie is straight. It's Bill who's gay, from time to time…" declared Weasley._

"_You never can tell. Moony too was straight, before. There are too many gay people in this school…" stated Padfoot._

"_We should go. He wouldn't appreciate being disturbed," observed Hermione._

_They departed the inverse way when a cry caught their ears. They blanched and turned back, uncertain. But the name had been clear. Ron ran to the door and opened it wide. _

"_Aaaarrrrgggghhhh!" _

"_What was that?" inquired Draco, interrupting their sensual playing._

"_R… Ron's voice I think. Draco… The spider, it was a joke, isn't it?"_

"_Of course… Oh shit! Atus!" He got up and began dressing. "Harry, we have to stop there. You should come too, to prevent your friend from the murder." _

"_Which murder?"_

"_His brothers."_

_When they passed the door, Harry lifted his collar to hide bite marks and Draco licked the blood from his lips. Even if the knowledge of this secret hadn't bothered the Gryffindor, he wasn't certain all_ _would react the same way… Especially Sirius who already had acceptance problems with Remus's choice of a mate. _

_Ginny had fainted on the spot and Ron had his eyes glued to the two young men on the bed. He was in shock. Cast quickly caught his wand and magically closed the door on their noses. Some seconds later, Bill and him reappeared dressed and at the same time, Harry and Draco arrived._

"Headmaster, now," ordered the Slytherin darkly. He enervated the little Weasley and, in a heavy silence, the procession went to Dumbledore's office. The wizard's powers had warned him of the problem and he was waiting for them.

"Convoke the family," Draco only said before he summoned a coffee pot and cups on the desk and he poured Harry and himself cups. He was obviously very, very, very mad at being interrupted. Harry was dubious on what to think about his friend's two brothers being together.

"What happened?" Sleepily asked Arthur Weasley, followed by his wife and other children.

"What's happening here?" Mirrored another voice that just entered, "You can't sleep in peace."

"Why are you grumbling then? You weren't sleeping," grumbled Sirius at his old nemesis attention.

"Shut up, Black," rebuffed a third person.

The twins shuddered at the voice and sight and took some steps back. They didn't like it… At all… Arthur Weasley eyed his enemy with care. Who was this man? He looked like Lucius Malfoy, he sounded like Lucius Malfoy, but he wasn't Lucius Malfoy. He was… frightening.

"Lucius!" Beckoned Draco, "What are you doing here?"

"He's my student. I don't want him stoned by his family."

"Fine. Don't bother me then." The voice was darker than it had ever been and all the present ones shivered in fear.

Harry went to his mate. "You should eat," he murmured. Draco had only taken a small part of his blood, in order to let his time to adapt; but his now sharpened senses added to his anger weren't good for a tranquil resolution of the problem.

"In front of them? That would cost the weasel the rest of his sanity." He smirked.

"But you're too tense," insisted the Gryffindor.

"Hum…" considered Draco, "Fine, but not you. I wouldn't resist. By Merlin, I want you…"

Harry smiled at his victory. "Not Snape either. He's your father's."

Draco beamed at his choice of a mate. He was astonished at Harry's incredible quick understanding of what he was and how it worked.

"I made you a promise," resolved a new voice.

Dumbledore wondered a time if he could enlarge his office enough to contain the full school. Who would enter after Remus and the vampire?

"You promised him?" Harry was startled.

"No, it was only a question at that time," recalled Draco.

All were busy understanding what this hushed dialogue could mean. Dumbledore observed: he had guessed right. Remus advanced on Draco and kneeled, exposing his neck. The young Slytherin took a deep breath at the exiting sight. His eyes glinted silver and fangs pointed behind his lips. Some gasped at the scene. Sirius wanted to hex Draco but was retained by Alexander. The Malfoy junior bent over his friend and bit the offered neck.

"Remus," cried Padfoot.

"Shh. The stronger the vampire is, the more incredible his enticing powers are. He will feel nothing but pleasure," explained the wolf's lover.

"He's biting your mate and you let him!" Sirius growled.

"Yes. Getting bitten as offered food by a powerful vampire is an honour. And Draco is very powerful."

Effectively, the only noises emitted were slight wolfy moans. When he considered he had eaten enough, Draco released the wolf. Alex let the dog loose and embraced his exhausted lover.

"Good," criticised Draco. Many were looking at him in horror and terror. Horror at the fact that he was a vampire and had lived among them unnoticed, terror at the beam of power that surrounded him. He sat in a chair and Harry took place on one of his knees.

"How do you resist the sun?" Inquired Dumbledore smiling. His two children looked happy with their vampire mates, and Remus was cuddling in another vampire's arms. Truly… Life was full of surprises.

"I'm only half vampire," explained Draco, "It doesn't bother me. Now, to our current problem. What happened?"

"Yes, I'd like to know why you called for us," added the Weasley senior. "It surely wasn't to look at… a feeding…" The idea in itself didn't rebuffed him, he knew what were vampires and had defended them against the council. What bothered him most there was the fact that Lucius Malfoy was actually one. He wondered if the man had bitten his son during their stay together.

"No, it wasn't. Mr Weasley," Dumbledore waved to Ron, "May you enlighten us?"

"Hum… Yes…" The boy's colours were slowly coming back after the shocks he just received. "Charlie and Bill, they… hum… they were…"

"They were fucking when some imbeciles came upon them," finished Draco.

Mrs Weasley gaped at the rudeness. "They were what?" yelled Arthur. The twins bent in laughs then realise the situation and looked at their brothers, waiting for a contradiction. But they said nothing and looked at the floor.

"I… Is this true?" Asked their mother in a low voice.

Atus squeezed Bill's hand and eyed his mother with care. "It is."

"But you're brothers!" She shouted, "How could… You!" She pointed at the Malfoy senior. "What did you do to my sons!"

Her husband didn't bothered with words and launched at the vampire. He was stopped at once by a barrier of ice that separated the men.

"I don't give you authorisation to menace him. He's mine." Draco was filling his pipe and Mrs Weasley frowned, wondering if the boy had manners at all. To smoke in the headmaster's office! "Besides, I was sole to encourage this relationship."

"So you will be sole to put an end to it!" Impended Arthur.

"Why should I?"

"Because I am their mother and I order it!" Shouted Molly, "This is wrong! They are brothers for Merlin's sake!"

"Really? You see brothers? I don't see brothers. I see Bill Weasley and Atus Cast. Not brothers at all, they don't even look alike. Do you see brothers, my dear?" He asked Harry.

Harry eyed the angry mother of his friends. Of course, if you considered the man was Charlie Weasley, this was rather contra-natural, but if the man was Atus Cast, there was no problem. "Well… no."

"What? Harry, don't let yourself be taken in by him! You know they are my sons!"

"Technically, no," cut Draco. "Charlie Weasley is dead and will remain this way. Nothing can make him come back, now."

"What. Did. You. Do. To. My. Son!" Mr Weasley marched upon Draco.

"I gave him a permanent potion."

The father's anger was reaching summits.

"Please, Arthur, accept us. I love him." The man looked at his son whom, for the first time, had called him by his name, underlining who he wanted to be. Bill also stared at his lover, pleasantly surprised by the declaration. The black eyes were begging and Arthur doubted this truly was his son.

The Weasley senior turned to Dumbledore for help. The old wizard smiled kindly and he sighed.

"I suppose if I add something, you will erase our memories and make us forget Charlie ever came back?" he asked to Draco.

"You're an intelligent man."

"And we have no say in this?"

"Of course you have. You can give them your benediction."

"Arthur… You can't accept that…" pleaded Mrs Weasley.

"I don't know." He felt tired. "It's so simple when you look at it this way. Charlie died one and a half years ago. Bill found happiness with… Atus Cast… I… You have my benediction."

"Arthur!"

But the man cast floo-powder in the fireplace and disappeared.

Lucius sighed. "I suppose I can take care of that…" and at everyone's astonishment, he followed.

Mrs Weasley was at a loss for words. "Molly," said Dumbledore, "Why don't you give it a try? Don't you want them to be happy?"

"Well… Yes… but…" She turned to her children for support, but all were smirking at their brothers. The first strangeness passed, it was true they could look at it with another eye. Bill had fallen in love with a teacher, no problem. "Fine."

-

**Some months later.**

The potion master entered the Defence Against the Dark Arts class and directed his steps toward the teacher. "Harry! Draco wants to see you now. Seems important."

The ex-Gryffindor still hadn't got used to Snape addressing him by his first name, but as Draco made a point of it, Harry made efforts. From his view, the Slytherin head had the very same problems. Abandoning his class to the potions' professor, Harry went to the Gargoyle and penetrated the headmaster's office.

Draco was observing students training for the quidditch match the day after, and turned as soon as he registered Harry's enter.

"There's a problem?" apprehensively asked the new DADA teacher.

"No," immediately reassured the blonde young man, "I'll only need you to take over the post of headmaster for a time, let's say… in some months."

Harry was flabbergasted, "Me? Headmaster? But why? You're perfect."

It had been a year now that Dumbledore had retired. Draco had considered his new responsibilities with seriousness and supplied the most fairness he was able to generate. Harry had been proposed this post too when he still was in seventh year, but had refused, what with Draco being dead at the time. When the blonde had come back and been named, he'd also offered to exchange with Harry. He had again refused. Draco had the qualities required for the place. Some days later, Malfoy presented his mate the post of DADA teacher that Remus had abandoned for another he preferred. Harry was delighted.

"You remember when Gryffindor came back?" Draco changed subject. Harry nodded. "I asked him a spell then. A spell he provided me. I made a potion of it and drank it."

"I fear I don't follow you. What did you asked him?" He inquired suspiciously.

But, by way of an answer, Draco approached Harry and bent to his ear, "My dear, you're gonna be a father."

**END OF THE SNAKE' CLAN. **(go till the end, there's a surprise)

**Cast : **

**Draco Malfoy. **Heir of the Slytherin, Malfoy, Gryffindor and Black families. Reincarnated son of Salazar Slytherin. Vampire-born. Master of Water and Time. Practices wandless, dark, white, elemental and transcendental magic. Talks and commands to the dragons. Foresees the future. Animagus : dragon. Headmaster of Hogwarts. Prince of the Slytherins. Master of the Snake's Clan. Mate : Harry Potter.

**Harry Potter.** Heir of the Gryffindor and Potter families. Master of Fire and Space. Practices wandless, white and elemental magic. Has visions of Draco since they have bound. Talks and commands to the snakes. Animagus : griffin. Professor of DADA. Member of Dumbledore's Army. Member of the order of the Phoenix. Mate : Draco Malfoy.

**Lucius Malfoy.** Heir of the Malfoy family. Current lord of the Malfoy lands. Vampire-born. Practices wandless, dark, white magic. Performs rituals of spirits' invocation. Member of the Snake's Clan. Mate : Severus Snape.

**Severus Snape.**Heir of the Snape family. Practices dark and white magic. Potions master. Professor of Potions. Head of the Slytherin house. Member of the Snake's Clan. Member of the Order of the Phoenix. Spy for Dumbledore. Mate : Lucius Malfoy.

**Atus Cast.** Heir of the Weasley family. Dragon friend and rider. Practices dark and white magic. Professor of Curses and Maledictions. Member of the Snake's Clan. Member of Order of the Phoenix. Mate : Bill Weasley.

**Bill Weasley.** Heir of the Weasley family. Curse-breaker. Practices white magic. Professor of Charms at Hogwarts. Head of the Gryffindor house. Member of the Order of the Phoenix. Mate : Atus Cast.

**Albus Dumbledore.** Practices white, elemental and wandless magic. Member of the Order of Merlin. Chief of the Order of the Phoenix. Retired from the post of Headmaster at Hogwarts. Animagus : winged horse.

**Hermione Granger.** Practices white magic. Most powerful muggle-born witch for centuries. Member of the Army of Dumbledore. Runs the Ministry of Muggles' relations. Animagus : owl. Mate : Ron Weasley.

**Ron Weasley.** Heir of the Weasley family. Practices white magic. Works for a French company of brooms' creation: 'Balayer toujours plus loin'. Member of the Army of Dumbledore. Mate : Hermione Granger.

**Remus Lupin.** Were-wolf. Official representative of his people in the wizarding world. Practices white magic. Professor of Cognisance of Magical People. Member of the Order of the Phoenix. Mate : Alexander, vampire.

**Sirius Black.** Heir of the Black family. Practices white magic. Works as a special auror and purchases spies and traitors in the Ministry. Member of the Order of the Phoenix. Animagus : dog.

**FOR THE FUN **

Severus smiled at the beautiful sight: Draco was teaching his toddler son magic. Even Potter's soon to come back presence couldn't soil the touching scene. No, the only thing that could was this squeeze of his heart. He had never envisaged the idea of having children, had raised Draco as his own and now considered the baby as a grandchild. Still… He wondered if there remained a Snape somewhere in the world to pass on the genes. He knew there wasn't.

"What are you musing on, Severus?" Inquired the young headmaster, leaving the baby to his rest.

"Nothing of importance."

"Really? Some Gryffindors, I presume?" Draco grinned slightly, a gleam in the eyes. "Tea?" he proposed. The ex-Slytherin was beginning to sound way too much like Dumbledore for Severus's liking. It was disturbing.

"Yes, some Gryffindors," he agreed, taking a cup and sipping his tea. The young man was imitating him, a smirk on his lips. What was he planning? A Gryffindorish Dumbledore had been dangerous enough, Severus didn't want a Slytherinish one!

"Draco," called Potter when entering the office. He kissed his husband and his son. "We need better brooms for the Flying Class."

"I know, I passed command yesterday."

Severus discussed with the two lovers for a time then took leave. Lucius had decided they were going to France for the week-end.

When he came back, he felt… strange… The sensation passed quickly and he dismissed it.

**Some months later.**

"I'm well, Poppy! I fainted, that's all! I must be tired." Severus tempted to get free of the Mediwitch.

"One last test and you may go," she insisted.

"The last, then," he reluctantly accepted.

She muttered a spell on him which resulted in a pastel red colour surrounding him. 'I know this spell, I'm sure I know this spell,' he thought, worried.

"Oh…" smiled Mrs Pomfrey.

"What?" He almost shouted.

"Severus, you're pregnant," she declared.

He gaped. "I can't! I'm a man!" He stated the obvious.

"Draco was too," she recalled.

"No… The tea… It was… Dracoooo!"

**END**

**SECOND CALL : FOR EVEN MORE FUN !**

Today, they feasted for David's fifth birthday. Everyone was at the Manor for the occasion. Malfoys, Weasleys, vampires, some old and new students, Dumbledore. All were waiting in the garden. Grand tables had been taken out to host the formidable birthday cakes. Mountains of presents filled the chairs. Then, the hero of the day arrived with his father. The little child was as blond as every member of the Malfoy family, but he had inherited the green pupils of Harry. A gleam of intelligence illuminated his eyes and an aura of power surrounded him. In some years, he would become the most powerful being of the wizarding world.

Draco and his son were each carrying a box. Draco's contained blue papers and David's green ones. The adult vampire waved through the guests and glued papers to some chests. Harry, Bill, Lucius, Atus, Remus, Severus, Alexander and Oliver Wood were his choices. Then he returned to his child.

"The persons with my paper on them are mine. Now, you can choose your first," he indicated the boy who beamed with happiness.

"His first what?" asked Sirius, voicing what everyone wondered silently.

"Member of his harim, of course," answered naturally Draco. (Douglaslr taught me a harim was the masculine version of a harem. Thank you!)

At that point, the child came back with his box. "I used two. May I keep the others for later?" he inquired.

"Of course you may. That is the point with beginning soon and finishing late. You will meet many peoples that deserve to take part of your harim. Make your choices carefully."

"Yes dad."

"That's my son."

Behind them, smiles and laughs were increasing and Sirius turned to see what was the object of their attention. He saw a green paper on the three years old son of Snape and smirked then searched for the other victim. That was till Hermione Weasley took pity of him and presented him an identical piece of paper.

"That was on your back."

"Whhhhaaaaattttt! Malfoy! I hate you!"

**This time it's really the end. Many thanks to Douglaslr for the idea.**

**AUTHOR'S NOTES:** Well… This story comes to an end. I thank all those that accepted to beta it, Severinus owning the last four chapters, the most difficult because the longest. Many thanks too to all those who reviewed. If you have questions, just mail me and I'll reply.

I hope you found this fic to your tastes and that it answered all your expectations, while still letting a little place for imagination. I'd very much like to have your opinion on this last chapter and the fic in general. It would be utterly great of you.

Thank you again !

**SOON TO COME: When Remus Lupin decides to take part in a Malfoy's redemption, he may find more than he expected. What secret is hiding Draco? What is he afraid of? How much did they all underestimated the boy's intelligence? **


End file.
